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REVIZOR 

A   COMEDY 

BY 

NIKOLAS    V.   GOGOL 


TRANSLATED  FOR 


THE  YALE  UNIVERSITY 
DRAMATIC  ASSOCIATION 


By  Max  S.  Mandell 

Instructor  in  Russian   at   Yale  University 

WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION 

By  William  Lyon  Phelps 

Lantpson  Professor  of  Englisk  Literature  at    Yale   University 


№ 


NEW  HAVEN,  CONN. 

Published  under  the  Supervision  of 

Charles  Pascal  Franchot,  iqio 


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PRESERVATION 
COPY  ADDED 

\'AL  TO  BE 
RETAINED 


Copyright,  1908, 
By  The  Yale  University  Dramatic  Association. 


THE   TUTTLE,    MOREHOUSE   A.   TAYLOR    COMPANY, 
NEW    HAVEN,   CONN. 


ЗЗЬЗ 

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THIS   VOLUME   IS    RESPECTFULLY   DEDICATED    TO 

PRESIDENT   ARTHUR   T.    HADLEY, 

IN    THE    FIRST   YEAR   OF    WHOSE  ADMINISTRATION 

THE  YALE  UNIVERSITY  DRAMATIC  ASSOCIATION   WAS 

FOUNDED,  AND  WHO  HAS  BEEN  TO  THE  ORGANIZATION 

A  FAITHFUL  AND  POWERFUL  FRIEND. 


Note. — In  publishing  this  Acting  Version  of  "Revizor"  the  Yale 
University  Dramatic  Association  does  not  use  a  literal  translation 
of  the  Russian  text,  but  rather  one  that  is  freely  abridged  and 
adapted  to  suit  the  needs  of  an  American  production. 


PREFACE. 


The  policy  of  the  Yale  University  Dramatic  Association 
is  to  select  for  the  annual  spring  performances  plays  which 
belong  to  standard  literature  and  at  the  same  time  are 
seldom,  if  ever,  mounted  on  the  professional  stage.  In 
selecting  for  1908  Gogol's  Revivor  it  is  believed  that  both 
these  purposes  are  fulfilled ;  for  so  far  as  I  have  been  able 
to  discover,  the  Yale  presentation  will  be  the  first  ever  given 
anywhere  in  English ;  and  as  to  the  position  in  world  litera- 
ture of  this  drama,  it  is  universally  admitted  to  be  the  finest 
play  in  the  Russian  language. 

Mr.  Max  Mandell,  Instructor  in  Russian  in  the  Univer- 
sity, to  whose  generosity  and  kindness  all  students  of  the 
Russian  language  and  literature  at  New  Haven  already  owe 
so  much,  has  translated  the  entire  work  directly  from  the 
original,  for  the  use  of  the  Yale  University  Dramatic 
Association ;  but  it  should  be  noted  here  that  in  publishing 
this  acting  version  the  Dramatic  Association  has  freely 
adapted  and  abridged  Mr.  Mandell's  translation  with  a  view 
to  making  it  more  effective  for  an  American  stage 
performance. 

In  preparing  the  few  words  that  I  have  written  as  an 
Introduction  I  have  consulted  volumes  that  are  mentioned 
in  the  Bibliography;  but  my  chief  and  constant  obligation 
is  to  the  admirable  These  de  Doctorat  on  Gogol,  written  by 
Mile.  Raina  Tyrneva  at  the  University  of  Lyon,  and  pub- 
lished at  Aix  in  1901.  Among  doctors'  theses  in  general 
this  shines  out   "like  a  star  i'  the  darkest  night." 

W.  L.  P. 
Yale  College,  16th  March,  1908. 


viii  REVIZOR. 

matters  dramatic,  and  unconsciously  prepared  himself  for 
his  future  career.  Like  Schiller,  he  wrote  a  tragedy,  called 
The  Robbers. 

In  December,  1828,  Gogol  took  up  his  residence  in  St. 
Petersburg,  bringing  with  him  some  manuscripts  that  he 
had  written  while  at  school.  He  had  the  temerity  to  publish 
one,  which  was  so  brutally  ridiculed  by  the  critics,  that  the 
young  genius,  in  despair,  burned  all  the  unsold  copies. 
Then  he  vainly  tried  various  means  of  subsistence.  Sud- 
denly he  decided  to  seek  his  fortune  in  America,  but  he 
was  both  homesick  and  seasick  before  the  ship  emerged 
from  the  Baltic,  and  from  Lubeck  he  fled  incontinently  back 
to  Petersburg.  Then  he  tried  to  become  an  actor,  but  his 
voice  was  not  sufficiently  strong.  For  a  short  time  he  held 
a  minor  official  position,  and  a  little  later  was  professor  of 
history,  an  occupation  he  did  not  enjoy,  saying  after  his 
resignation,  "I  am  now  a  free  Cossack  again."  Mean- 
while his  pen  was  steadily  busy,  and  his  sketches  of  farm  life 
in  the  Ukraine  attracted  considerable  attention  among 
literary  circles  in  the  capital. 

In  1 83 1,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  great  poet  Pushkin,  father  of  modern  Russian 
literature,  and  a  few  months  later  in  the  same  year  he  was 
presented  to  Madame  Smirnova;  these  friends  gave  him 
the  entree  to  the  Petersburg  salons,  and  the  young  writer 
found  himself  in  a  wholly  congenial  environment.  It  was 
Pushkin  who  suggested  to  him  the  subjects  for  two  of  his 
most  famous  works,  Revizor  and  Dead  Souls.  Another 
friend,  Joukovsky,  exercised  a  powerful  influence,  and  gave 
invaluable  aid  at  several  crises  of  his  career.  Joukovsky 
had  translated  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey;  his  enthusiasm 
for  Hellenic  poetry  was  contagious ;  and  under  this  inspira- 


tion  Gogol  proceeded  to  write  the  most  Homeric  romance 
in  Russian  literature,  Taras  Bxilba  (1834).  This  story  gave 
the  first  indubitable  proof  of  its  author's  genius,  and  to-day 
in  the  world's  fiction,  it  holds  an  unassailable  place  in  the 
front  rank.  The  book  is  so  short  that  it  may  be  read 
through  in  less  than  two  hours;  but  it  gives  the  same 
impression  of  vastness  and  immensity  as  the  huge  volumes 
of  Sienkiewicz. 

Gogol  followed  this  amazingly  powerful  romance  by  two 
other  works,  which  seem  to  have  all  the  marks  of  immor- 
tality— the  comedy  Revizor  (1836),  and  a  long,  unfinished 
novel,  which  its  author  called  a  poem,  Dead  Souls  (1842). 
This  latter  book  is  the  first  of  the  great  realistic  novels 
of  Russia,  of  which  Fathers  and  Sons,  Crime  and  Punish- 
ment, and  Anna  Karenina  are  such  splendid  examples. 

From  1836  to  his  death  in  1852,  Gogol  lived  mainly 
abroad,  and  spent  much  time  in  travel.  His  favorite  place 
of  residence  was  Rome,  to  which  city  he  repeatedly  returned 
with  increasing  affection.  In  1848  he  made  a  pilgrimage 
to  the  Holy  Land,  for  Gogol  never  departed  from  the  pious 
Christian  faith  taught  him  by  his  mother;  in  fact,  toward 
the  end  of  his  life,  he  became  a  mystic.  The  last  years  were 
marred  by  illness,  and — a  common  thing  among  Russian 
literary  geniuses — by  intense  nervous  depression.  He  died 
at  Moscow,  the  21st  February,  1852.  His  last  words  were 
the  old  saying,  "And  I  shall  laugh  with  a  bitter  laugh." 
These  words  were  placed  on  his  tomb. 


X  REVIZOR. 

II. 

"REVIZOR." 

Gogol  is  the  founder  of  Russian  realism.  His  single 
great  predecessor  in  Russian  literature,  Pushkin,  was  a 
romantic,  and  like  all  other  Europeans  of  his  time,  was 
influenced  chiefly  by  Byron.  But  Gogol,  after  producing 
a  historical  romance,  Taras  Bulba,  became  a  realist,  the 
father  of  a  race  of  giants,  among  whom  Turgenev,  Tolstoi, 
and  Dostoievski  seem  the  biggest  to  occidental  eyes. 
Gogol's  laughter  is  full  of  tears,  and  his  bitterness  mingled 
with  mirth ;  for,  unlike  his  mighty  followers,  who  were  men 
of  the  north,  he  was  homme  du  midi,  a  child  of  Little 
Russia.  Most  Russian  novels  are  steeped  in  pessimism,  and 
their  authors  were  men  of  sorrows.  Gogol,  however,  has 
the  double  distinction  of  being  the  only  great  comic  writer 
in  the  language,  and  in  particular  of  being  the  author  of  the 
only  Russian  drama  known  all  over  the  world,  and  still 
acted  everywhere  on  the  Continent.  Revizor  exhibits  clearly 
the  double  nature  of  its  author:  his  genius  for  moral 
satire,  and  his  genius  for  pure  fun.  From  the  moral  point 
of  view,  it  is  a  terrible  indictment  against  the  most  corrupt 
bureaucracy  of  modern  times ;  from  the  comic  point  of 
view,  it  is  an  uproarious  farce. 

The  origin  of  the  play  is  as  follows :  While  traveling  in 
Russia  one  day,  Pushkin  stopped  at  Nijni-Novgorod.  Here 
he  was  taken  for  a  state  functionary  on  tour  among  the 
provinces  for  purposes  of  government  inspection.  This 
amused  the  poet  so  keenly  that  he  narrated  all  the  circum- 
stances to  Gogol,  and  suggested  that  the  latter  make  a 
play  with  this  experience  as  the  basis  of  the  plot.     Gogol 


REVIZOR.  Xi 

not  only  acted  on  the  suggestion,  but  instead  of  a  mere  farce, 
he  produced  a  comedy  of  manners.  Toward  the  end  of 
his  life  he  wrote :  "In  Revizor  I  tried  to  gather  in  one  heap 
all  that  was  bad  in  Russia,  as  I  then  understood  it :  I  wished 
to  turn  it  all  into  ridicule.  The  real  impression  produced 
was  that  of  fear.  Through  the  laughter  that  I  have  never 
laughed  more  loudly,  the  spectator  feels  my  bitterness  and 
sorrow."  The  drama  was  finished  on  the  4th  December, 
1835,  and  of  course  the  immediate  difficulty  was  the  censor- 
ship. How  would  it  be  possible  for  such  a  satire  either  to  be 
printed  or  acted  in  Russia?  Fortunately,  the  Czar,  Nikolas 
I,  was  not  only  wise  and  tolerant,  but  a  keen  lover  of  the 
best  in  literature.  Gogol's  friend,  Madame  Smirnova,  car- 
ried the  manuscript  to  the  monarch.  It  was  read  to  him; 
he  roared  with  laughter,  and  immediately  ordered  that  it 
be  acted.  We  may  note  also  that  he  became  a  warm  friend 
of  Gogol,  and  frequently  furnished  him  with  money,  taking 
care  that  the  name  of  his  benefactor  should  remain 
unknown. 

The  first  performance  was  on  the  19th  April,  1856.  The 
Czar  attended  in  person,  and  applauded  vigorously.  Its 
success  was  immediate,  and  it  has  never  quitted  the  stage. 
Gogol  wrote  to  a  friend,  "On  the  opening  night  I  felt 
uncomfortable  from  the  very  first  as  I  sat  in  the  theatre. 
Anxiety  for  the  approval  of  the  audience  did  not  trouble  me. 
There  was  only  one  critic  in  the  house — myself — that  I 
feared.  I  heard  clamorous  objections  within  me  which 
drowned  all  else.  However,  the  public,  as  a  whole,  was 
satisfied.  Half  of  the  audience  praised  the  play,  the  other 
half  condemned  it,  but  not  on  artistic  grounds." 

Revizor  is  one  of  the  best  constructed  comedies  in  any 
language :    for  not  only  has  it  a  unified  and  well-ordered 


plot,  but  it  does  not  stop  with  the  final  fall  of  the  curtain. 
In  the  last  dumb  scene,  after  all  the  mirth,  the  real  trouble 
is  about  to  begin ;  and  the  spectators  leave  the  theatre,  not 
merely  with  the  delightful  memory  of  an  evening's  enter- 
tainment, but  with  their  imagination  aflame.  The  comedy 
resembles  real  life,  in  that  it  has  no  artificial  stop,  x  Further- 
more, Revizor  has  that  combination  of  the  intensely  local 
element 'with  the  universal,'  so  characteristic  of  works  of 
genius.  I  Its  avowed  attempt  was  to  satirize  local  and  tem- 
poral abuses;  but  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  any  state  of 
society  in  the  near  future  where  the  play  will  not  seem  real. 
To-day  audiences  in  Germany  enjoy  it  more  than  almost 
any  other  foreign  comedy. 

Wm.  Lyon  Phelps. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY. 


(A  very  few  books  by  and  on  Gogol,  and  one  or  two 
works  on  Russian  literature,  are  mentioned  here,  both  to 
satisfy  possible  curiosity,  and  to  stimulate  it.) 
Charriere,  E.   (trans.)     Les  Ames  Mortes.     2  vols.  Paris, 

1897. 
Hapgood,   I.    (trans.)     Dead  Souls.     2  vols.   New  York, 

1886. 
Hapgood,  I.  (trans.)     Taras  Bulba.    New  York,  1886. 
♦Hart    Davies,    T.     (trans.)       The    Inspector    (trans,    of 

Reviser).     Calcutta,  1890. 
Kaminsky,  E.     Vcillees  de  Г  Ukraine.    Paris. 
Merimee,    P.      Carmen    (Contains    an    essay    on    Gogol). 

Paris. 
Merimee,   P.     Les  Deux  Heritages.     (Contains  L'lnspec- 

teur-Gcneral,  trans,  of  Revisor.)      Paris,   1892. 
*Morfill,  W.     Review  of  Sykes's  translation  in  Academy, 

25th  February,  1893.     [This  review  gives  an  excellent 

idea  of   the  attitude  of  Englishmen  toward   Russian 

literature.] 
Sykes,  A.  (trans.)     The  Inspector-General.    London,  1892. 
Tyrneva,  R.     Nicolas  Gogol,  Ecrivain  et  Moraliste.     Aix, 

1901. 
Vogue,  E.     Le  Roman  Rnsse.     Paris,  4th  ed.,  1897. 
Wolkonsky,  S.     Pictures  of  Russian  History  and  Russian 

Literature.     Boston,  1897. 

*  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Andrew  Keogh,  of  the  Yale  Library,  for 
this  reference. 


THE  YALE  UNIVERSITY  DRAMATIC 
ASSOCIATION. 

(Founded  February  28th,  1900,  by  Henry  D.  Wescott.) 


OFFICERS. 

President, 
THOMAS  ACHELIS,    1908. 

Vice  President, 
SIDNEY  ROLLINS  OVERALL,    1908 

Secretary, 
PHILIP  STANLEY  WAINWRIGHT,  1908  S. 

Manager, 
RAYMOND  IVES,   1908. 

Assistant  Manager, 
ROBERT  MALLORY,  JR.,  1909. 


Honorary    Members. 

PROFESSOR   WILLIAM   LYON   PHELPS. 

PROFESSOR    EDWARD    BLISS   REED. 

MR.   FRANK  LEA   SHORT. 


Active    Members. 

Graduate  School. 

CHARLES   ROBERTS   HOPKINS. 

1908. 

THOMAS   ACHELIS. 

DAVID    VANNOOY    BENNETT. 

CHARLES    TEMPLETON    CROCKER. 

WALTER   MORGAN   CRUNDEN. 

WALTER   REMY    DRAY. 

*ROBERT   WARD   HARRIS. 

CHARLES   ELLIOT   IDE. 

RAYMOND    IVES. 

SIDNEY    ROLLINS    OVERALL. 

DONALD    WALLACE    PORTER. 

HOWARD    STURGES. 
RONALD   MUIRHEAD    BYRNES. 

1908  S. 

JOHN   PATTERSON   RAMSEY. 

PHILIP   STANLEY   WAINWRIGHT. 

*  Has  left  College. 


1909. 

FRANCIS    PEABODY    BUTLER. 

MILES    CARRINGTON    HANNAH. 

STANLEY   WESTCOTT   HOLMES. 

MAXWELL   OSWALD    PARRY. 

REGINALD    CARMAN    MAC  KNIGHT    PEIRCE. 

HUNTINGTON   SMITH. 

1910. 

STEPHEN   MERRILL   CLEMENT,   JR. 

CHARLES    PASCAL  FRANCHOT. 

THOMAS    LAWRASON    RIGGS. 

HARVEY   TRACY   WARREN. 

1910  S. 
MATTHEW    GRISWOLD    ELY. 

1911. 

ARTHUR   MO  WRY   HARTWELL. 

JOHN    VINCENT   MCDONNELL. 

EDGAR    MONTILLION    WOOLLEY. 


fUNI 


Frank  Lea  Short, 
Stage  Director. 


THE  YALE  UNIVERSITY  DRAMATIC  ASSOCIATION 

Presents  as  its 
NINTH  ANNUAL  SPRING  PRODUCTION 

"REVIZOR" 

BY  NIKOLAS  V.  GOGOL 

For  the  first  time  in  America,  under  the  stage  direction  of 

MR.  FRANK  LEA  SHORT. 


NEW  YORK-Waldorf- Astoria  Hotel,  Easter  Monday,  April  20th, 
1908,  Matinee  and  Evening. 

HARTFORD- -Parsons'  Theatre,  Tuesday  Evening,  April  21st. 

WATERBURY-Poli's  Theatre,  Wednesday,  April  22d,  Matinee 
and  Evening. 

NEW  HAVEN- -Hyperion  Theatre,  Friday  and  Saturday  Evenings, 
April  24th  and  25th. 


FORMER    PRODUCTIONS. 


May  23d,  1900. 
"The  Pardoner's  Tale"  of  Chaucer  and  "The  Second 

Shepherd's  Play." 

April  23d  and  24th,  1901. 

Thomas  Heywood's  "The  Fair  Maid  of  the  West." 

October  22d,  1901. 

Bicentennial  Campus  Celebration — Under  Auspices  of  the 

Yale  Dramatic  Association. 

April  23d  and  24th,  1902. 

Sheridan's  "The  Critic"  and  Townley's  "High  Life  Below 

Stairs." 

April  2jth  and  28th,  1903. 

Oliver  Goldsmith's  "The  Good-Natured  Man." 

April  19th  and  20th,  1904. 

Tom  Taylor's  "New  Men  and  Old  Acres." 

April  4th  and  5th,  and  Carnegie  Lyceum,  New  York, 

April  yth,  1905. 

A.  W.  Pinero's  "The  Magistrate." 

April  3d  and  4th,  1906. 

Shakespeare's  "Henry  IV,  Part  I." 

First  Promenade  Performance,  January  19th,  1907. 

A.  W.  Pinero's  "The  Amazons." 

April  1st,  Parsons'  Theatre,  Hartford,  Conn.;  April  2d  and 

3d,  Waldorf-Astoria  Hotel,  Nezu  York,  and  April  5th 

and  6th,  190J,  Hyperion  Theatre,  New  Haven. 

Henrik  Ibsen's  "The  Pretenders." 

November  18th,  1907,  College  Street  Hall. 

"El  Doctor  у  El  Enfermo,"    "Einer  Muss  Heiraten,"    and 

"Le  Pretexte." 

Second  Promenade  Performance,  January  18th,  1908. 
Oscar  Wilde's  "The  Importance  of  Being  Earnest." 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS. 


,'  Anton    Antonovich    Skvoznik-Dmukhanovski/  Police 
Prefect,  Maxzvell  Oswald  Parry,  1909. 

Anna  Andreevna,  his  wife, 

Matthew  Griswold  Ely,  1910S. 

Marya  Antonovna,  his  daughter, 

Arthur  Mowry  Hartwell,  191 1. 

Luka  Lukich  Khlopov,  Supervisor  of  schools, 

Reginald  Carman  MacKnight  Peirce,  1909. 

The  Supervisor's  Wife,    Stanley  Westcott  Holmes,  1909. 

Ammos  Fedrovich  Lyapkin-Tyapkin,  Judge, 

Charles  Roberts  Hopkins,  1907. 

Artemi  Filippovich  Zemlyanika,  Guardian  of  the  Char- 
itable Institutions,        Ronald  Muirhead  Byrnes,  1908. 

Ivan  Kuzmich  Shpekin,  Postmaster, 

Edgar  Montillion  Woolley,  1911. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski,  Country  Squire. 

Thomas  Lazvrason  Riggs,  J910. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski,  Country  Squire, 

Harvey  Tracy  Warren,  1910. 


Ivan  Aleksondrovich  Khlestakov,  a  ne'er  do  well, 

Thomas  A  eh  el  is,  1908. 

Christian  Ivanovich  Gibner,  a  district  doctor, 

Sidney  Rollins  Overall,  1908. 

Fedor  Andreevich  Lulukov, 

William  DeForest  Manice,  1911. 

Ivan  Lazarevich  Rastakovski, 

Hubert  McDonnell,  1909. 

Stepan  Ivanovich  Korobkix, 

Donald  Wallace  Porter,  1909. 
(Retired  functionaries,  respected  people  in  the  city.) 

Stepan   Ilich   Khovertov,  Police  Captain, 

Edward  Otis  Proctor,  1909. 

Svistunov,  Sergeant  of  Police, 

Loornis  Havemeyer,  1910S. 


Osip,  Khlestakov's  Valet, 

Miles  Carrington  Hannah,  1909. 

Mishka,  the  Prefect's  Valet, 

John   Vincent  McDonnell.  1911. 

The  Waiter  of  the  Hotel. 

Lindell  Theodore  Bates,  1910  S. 

Abdulin,  a  Merchant,  Walter  Morgan  Crunden,  1908. 

Fevronya  Petrovna  Poshlepkina,  a  Locksmith's  wife, 

John  Vincent  McDonnell,  191 1. 


The  Military  Sergeant's  Widow, 

Henry  Theodore  Flcitmann,  1909. 

Guests  of  both  sexes. 
Tradesmen. 
Citizens. 
Petitioners. 

The  music  is  by  the  Yale  Orchestra,  under  the  direction 
of  George  Ira  Tompkins,  1908,  of  the  Yale  Music  School. 


Property  Managers — Loomis  Havemeyer,   1910  S. ;  Lin- 
dell  Theodore  Bates,  1910  S. 

Understudies — Henry  Theodore  Fleitmann,   1909 ;    Wil- 
liam DeForest  Manice,  191 1. 

Costume  Committee — Sidney  Rollins  Overall,  1908 ;  Don- 
ald Wallace  Porter,  1908. 


THE  SCENES. 


Act  I. 

A  room  in  the  house  of  the  police  prefect. 

Act  II. 

A  small,  dark  bedroom  in  the  inn. 

Act  III. 

The  same  as  Act  I. 

Act  IV. 

The  same  as  Act  I. 

Act  V. 

The  same  as  Act  I. 


The  action  passes  in  the  first  half  of  the   Nineteenth 
Century. 


REVIZOR. 

A   COMEDY  IN   FIVE  ACTS. 


ACT  FIRST. 

Scene — A  room  in  the  house  of  the  police  prefect.  On 
the  right,  near  the  front,  a  what-not  with  a  few  books,  zvrit- 
ing  paper,  ink,  and  pen;  in  about  the  middle  of  the  wall,  a 
double  door  leading  to  the  halhvay  and  the  street;  a  couple 
of  old  pictures  on  this  wall;  a  tall  rubber  plant  in  a  zvooden 
pail  in  the  right  hand  corner,  back  of  a  chair;  in  the  back- 
ground, tzi'O  windows  curtained  and  tied  with  a  ribbon  to 
each  side  of  the  window  casing;  between  the  zvindows,  a 
sofa;  over  the  sofa,  a  small  picture  of  Nicholas  I ;  in  the 
left  comer,  an  icon;  in  the  left  wall,  tzvo  single  doors,  an 
oblong  mirror,  a  chair  under  it;  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
a  good  sized  table;  over  the  table,  suspended  from  the  ceil- 
ing, an  oil  lamp  with  a  large  white  shade,  from  which 
crystals  hang  down;  chairs  everywhere.  The  furniture  is 
old-fashioned  and  well  worn. 

Time — Middle  of  forenoon. 

Anton  Antonovich,  Artemi  Filippovich,  Luka 
Lukich,  Ammos  Fedrovich,  Stepan  Ilich,  Christian 
Ivanovich,  and  two  sergeants  are  in  the  room  as  the  curtain 
goes  up. 


Anton  Antonovtch.  I  have  invited  you,  gentlemen,  to 
tell  you  a  very  disagreeable  piece  of  news.  A  revizor  is 
coming  to  inspect  us. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  A  revizor?  What  do  you  mean  by 
that? 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Yes,  what  do  you  mean?  A 
revizor? 

Anton  Antonovich.  An  inspector  from  St.  Peters- 
burg. .  .  incognito  .  .  .  And  what  is  still  worse,  with 
secret  orders ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.     So  that's  what  it  has  come  to! 

Artemi  Filippovich.  We  were  all  right — and  now 
they're  going  to  make  it  hot  for  us. 

Luka  Lukich.     Great  heavens !     Secret  orders  ! 

Anton  Antonovich.  For  some  time  I've  had  a  pre- 
sentiment that  trouble  was  coming.  This  is  a  letter  that  I 
received  from  Andrei  Ivanovich  Chmikhov, — Artemi  Filip- 
povich, you  know  him,  don't  you  ? — here's  what  he  says : 
"My  dear  friend,  godfather,  and  benefactor  .  .  .  [He 
murmurs  something  while  looking  in  the  paper]  and  to 
apprise  you" — O,  here  it  is !  "Among  other  things  I  hasten 
to  let  you  know  that  a  functionary  with  secret  orders  is 
coming  to  inspect  all  the  governmental  conditions  of  the 
town,  introducing  himself  as  a  private  person.  I  have  this 
on  the  best  authority.  And  as  I  know  that,  like  the  rest 
of  us,  you  have  your  faults — you  are  all  right  and  nothing 
slips  through  your  fingers  in  the  way  of  bribes."  .  .  .  H'm! 
That's  a  manner  of  speaking.  .  .  .  [He  raises  his  fore- 
finger very  high.]  Well,  all  of  us  are  in  the  same  boat — 
it's  all  in  the  family — "So  I  advise  you  to  take  all  possible 
precautions,  because  he  is  apt  to  drop  in  on  you  at  any 
time,  if  he  is  not  already  in  town,  somewhere  incognito. 


REVIZOR.  3 

Yesterday  I  .  .  ."  Then  come  family  matters  .  .  .  "Sister 
Anna  Krilovna  is  visiting-  us  with  her  husband.  Ivan 
Krilich  has  grown  very  fat  and  insists  upon  playing  the 
fiddle  .  .  ."     Such  are  the  circumstances. 

[Puts  letter  in  envelope. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Yes,  unusual  circumstances,  most 
unusual.    He's  not  coming  just  for  the  fun  of  it! 

Luka  Lukich.  Why,  Anton  Antonovich,  why  all  this? 
Why  this  revizor? 

Anton  Antonovich.  Why?  Just  our  luck.  [Sighs.] 
Before,  they  examined  other  cities,  thank  God;  now,  it  is 
our  turn. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  I  think,  Anton  Antonovich,  that 
there  must  be  a  hidden  political  purpose  in  it.  I  venture 
to  say  that  it  means  this.  Russia,  yes,  Russia,  wants  to 
start  a  war,  and  the  Ministry,  yes,  the  Ministry,  sends  a 
functionary  to  see  if  there's  any  treason  here. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Pooh,  what  an  absurd  idea! 
You're  a  bright  one !  Treason  in  a  small  town  like  this  ? 
It's  not  on  the  border  line. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  No,  you're  wrong  there,  Anton 
Antonovich !  The  officials  are  sly  fellows.  They're  not 
taking  any  chances!  Even  if  we  are  far  away,  they're  not 
going  to  leave  any  stone  unturned. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Have  it  any  way  you  want  to! 
He's  coming  anyhow !  I  have  warned  you,  gentlemen,  look 
out !  In  my  own  department  I  have  made  certain  arrange- 
ments. I  advise  you  likewise  to  take  the  necessary  pre- 
cautions—  especially  you,  Artemi  Filippovich  —  without 
doubt  the  visiting  official  will  wish  first  of  all  to  inspect 
the  charitable  institutions  under  your  jurisdiction.  So  fix 
things  to  look  respectable.  Put  clean  nightcaps  on  the 
patients,  and  while  you're  about  it,  wash  them. 


4  REVIZOR. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Oh,  they're  all  right,  but  I  can 
change  the  caps  if  you  think  it  really  necessary. 

Anton  Antonovich.  You'd  better.  And  over  each  bed 
have  a  Latin  text  or  a  motto — "In  God  we  trust" — but  you 
know  what's  suitable.  Christian  Ivanovich,  work  up  your 
charts,  when  the  patient  was  taken  sick,  the  day  and  month. 
Don't  let  them  smoke  such  rank  tobacco.  The  Inspector 
may  object.  It's  strong  enough  to  make  one  sneeze.  And 
don't  have  so  many  patients  in  the  hospital — it  makes  the 
doctor  look  overworked  or  incapable.  And  as  for  you, 
Ammos  Fedrovich,  you'd  better  turn  your  attention  to  the 
court  house.  The  witness  room  looks  like  a  barnyard. 
Really  it's  not  quite  fitting  for  you  to  keep  your  geese  there. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Well,  if  you  think  so,  I'll  have  them 
taken  to  the  prisoner's  kitchen  at  once. 

Anton  Antonovich.  And  as  for  the  town  politics  and 
what  Andrei  Ivanovich  says  in  his  letter — "you  have  your 
faults"  ...  I  simply  don't  know  what  he  means.  Of 
course  everyone  has  committed  some  indiscretion. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  But  what  do  you  call  indiscretions? 
There  are  indiscretions  and  indiscretions.  For  myself,  I 
tell  everybody  openly  that  I  take  bribes.  Yes,  but  what 
bribes  ?    Greyhound  pups ! 

Anton  Antonovich.  Pups  are  pups,  and  a  bribe  is  a 
bribe ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Not  at  all,  Anton  Antonovich. 
Suppose,  for  example,  that  a  man's  fur  coat  costs  five  hun- 
dred rubles,  and  his  wife's  flannel  petticoat  costs  .  .  . 

Anton  Antonovich.  Well,  what  has  that  to  do  with  it, 
if  you  are  bribed  with  greyhound  pups?  Sh —  [He  stops 
fight.]  And  you,  Luka  Lukich,  as  school  supervisor,  watch 
the  teachers!    Of  course  I  realize  that  they  have  a  great 


deal  of  book  learning,  but — while  I  don't  want  to  com- 
plain— don't  you  think  that  they  are  too  temperamental? 
Your  teacher  of  history,  for  instance — brilliant  mind  and 
fine  scholar,  but  certainly  too  energetic.  I  heard  him  once ! 
Things  were  safe  with  Assyrians  and  Babylonians,  but  when 
he  got  to  Alexander  the  Great  ...  As  I  am  a  man  and 
a  sinner,  I  didn't  know  what  had  happened.  He  rushed 
down  from  the  platform,  seized  a  chair,  and  smashed  it. 
I'll  admit  that  Alexander  was  a  hero,  but  why  smash  chairs  ?  X 
The  Czar  loses  by  it. 

Luka  Lukich.  I  know,  I  know.  I  have  mentioned  it 
to  him.  But  what  can  you  do?  He's  ready  to  die  for 
science. 

Anton  Antonovich.  A  noble  soul!  but  the  children's 
lives  .  .  .  Ah,  well,  but  details  wouldn't  matter  much  if 
it  weren't  for  that  cursed  spy  incognito.  If  he  should 
pounce  suddenly  down  upon  me  and  say,  "Who's  the  Judge, 
Lyapkin  Tyapkin  ?  Let's  have  Lyapkin !  And  who's  the 
guardian  of  the  charitable  institutions,  Zemlyaniko?  Bring 
in  Zemlyaniko!"    And  then  where  would  we  be? 

[Ivan  Kuzmich  enters  from  the  door  on  the  right. 

Jvan  Kuzmich.  [Somewhat  excited.]  Gentlemen,  say! 
What  about  this  official  that's  coming? 

Anton  Antonovich.     Don't  you  know? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski  was  just 
now  in  my  office. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Well,  what  do  you  think? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     Think?     It's  war  with  Turkey. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.     Just  what  I  said. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Idiots ! 


6  REVIZOR. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  War  with  Turkey,  sure  as  I  live !  It's 
all  the  Frenchmen's  dirty  work. 

Anton  Antonovich.  War  with  Turkey,  preposterous! 
War  with  Turkey!  If  we  went  to  war  with  Turkey,  it's 
not  the  Turks  that  would  get  the  worst  of  it!  I  have  it 
on  the  most  reliable  authority ! 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  If  that's  so,  there'll  be  no  war  with 
Turkey ! 

Anton  Antonovich.  Well,  anyhow,  the  revizor  is  com- 
ing.   How's  your  department,  Ivan  Kuzmich? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  Mine?  Same  as  yours,  Anton  Antono~ 
vich.  [A  shot. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Same  as  mine?  Why  I,  I  have 
nothing  to  fear,  although  of  course  I  cannot  help  feeling 
a  little  uneasy.  People  are  so  malicious.  The  merchants 
and  citizens  worry  me  a  bit.  They  say  I  am  hard  on  them. 
But  as  I  am  a  man  and  a  sinner,  if  I  ever  took  anything  from 
anyone,  I  meant  it  for  the  best.  [Takes  him  by  the  arm  and 
leads  him  aside.]  All  the  same,  I  think,  I  think  that  there 
must  have  been  some  malicious  complaints.  Otherwise  why 
should  the  government  send  a  revizor  here?  Now  see 
here,  Ivan  Kuzmich,  don't  you  think  for  our  mutual  pro- 
tection that  you  could  manage  just  to  peep  into  every  letter 
that  goes  through  your  office  ?  You  can  easily  seal  them  up 
again,  or  for  that  matter  you  can  deliver  them  unsealed. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  Oh,  that's  all  right!  You  don't  need 
to  teach  me !  I've  always  done  it,  not  as  a  precaution,  but 
by  way  of  friendly  interest  in  the  community.  I  could  just 
die  reading  letters.  I  just  love  to  know  what's  going  on  in 
the  world.  There's  so  many  things  in  them — and  so  edify- 
ing— much  better  than  the  Moscow  Gazette. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Well,  then,  have  you  seen  any- 
thing in  them  about  an  official  from  St.  Petersburg? 


Maxwell  Oswald  Parry,   1909, 
as  .  Inton  .  Xntonovich. 


REVIZOR.  7 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     No,  not  a  word. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Well,  if  by  any  chance  you  should 
find  any  complaint  or  denunciation  against  me — just  sup- 
press that  letter. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     I  understand. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.     Go  easy  or  you'll  get  into  trouble ! 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     Oh,  goodness  gracious  me! 

Anton  Antonovich.  Not  at  all,  not  at  all !  Of  course, 
if  it  came  to  be  known  publicly,  it  would  be  another  matter ; 
but  this  is  all  in  the  family. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Yes,  it's  all  in  the  family.  And 
while  I'm  about  it,  I  came  here  for  the  express  purpose  of 
presenting  you  with  a  pup.  A  cousin  of  my  pup!  You've 
heard  about  that  law  suit?  Cheptovich  and  Varkhovinski. 
But  it  really  does  not  affect  me.  You  see,  I  hunt  hares 
first  on  the  estate  of  one  and  then  of  the  other. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Good  Lord,  what  do  I  care  about 
your  hunts?  All  I  can  think  about  now  is  that  cursed 
incognito.  I  expect  that  door  to  open  any  moment  and 
suddenly  .  .  . 

[Bobchinski  and  Dobchinski  both  enter  from  the 
street  door  and  out  of  breath. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  What  an  extraordinary 
occurrence ! 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  What  an  unexpected 
event ! 

Everybody.     What  is  it? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  A  most  unforeseen  affair. 
We  came  to  the  inn  ... 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  [Interrupting.]  Petr 
Ivanovich  and  I  came  to  the  inn  .  .  . 


J 

4.    С  А-    ,ГГ:**^ 


8  REVIZOR. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  [Interrupting.]  No,  no, 
no,  Petr  Ivanovich,  I'll  tell  it. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  No,  no,  let  me — you 
won't  get  it  straight. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.     You'll  forget  half  of  it. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  Of  course  I  won't. 
Please  let  me  start  it.  Please,  gentlemen,  don't  let  Petr 
Ivanovich  stop  me. 

Anton  Antonovich.  For  heaven's  sake,  one  of  you 
speak.  What  is  it?  My  heart  is  in  my  mouth.  Be  seated, 
gentlemen,  be  seated.  Petr  Ivanovich,  here  is  a  chair  for 
you.  [All  sit  around  the  two  Petr  Ivanoviches.]  Now, 
then,  what  is  it? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  Let  me,  let  me !  I'll  tell 
it  all  in  order.  As  soon  as  I  had  the  pleasure  of  leaving  you, 
right  after  you  had  permitted  yourselves  to  be  disturbed 
by  the  letter  you  had  received,  I  ran  at  once — please  don't 
stop  me,  Petr  Ivanovich — I  know  what  you  would  say.  So 
I,  as  you  will  please  see,  ran  to  Korobkin,  but  not  finding 
him  at  home  I  turned  to  Rastakabski,  and  not  finding  him 
at  home,  I  went  to  Ivan  Kuzmich  to  inform  him  of  the 
news  you  had  received,  and  as  I  was  coming  from  there  I 
met  Petr  Ivanovich  .  .  . 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  [Interrupting.]  By  the 
stand,  where  they  sell  tartlets  .  .  . 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  By  the  tartlet  stand. 
Yes !  Having  met  Petr  Ivanovich  I  asked  him,  "Have  you 
heard  the  news  Antonovich  has  received  through  a  trust- 
worthy letter?"  But  Petr  Ivanovich  had  already  heard  it 
from  your  housekeeper,  Avdotya,  who  had  been  sent  to 
Filip  Antonovich  Puchechuev  after  something  .  .  .  and  I 
did  not  know  what  it  was  .  .  . 


Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  [Interrupting.]  A  keg 
of  French  brandy. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  [Warding  off  his  hand.] 
Yes,  yes,  a  keg  of  French  brandy.  And  so  Petr  Ivanovich 
and  myself  went  to  Puchechuev  .  .  .  Now,  Petr  Ivano- 
vich, do  not  interrupt  me!  .  .  .  We  went  to  Puchechuev, 
and  on  the  way  Petr  Ivanovich  said  to  me,  "Let  us  go," 
said  he,  "to  the  inn.  My  stomach  is  empty.  I  haven't  eaten 
anything  since  morning.  Why,  my  stomach  is  just  wobbly. 
They  have  just  received  fresh  salmon,  so  we'll  have  a 
lunch."  But  no  sooner  had  we  entered  the  inn,  than  a  young 
man  .  .  . 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Of  good  appearance,  in 
citizen's  clothes  .  .  . 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  Yes,  yes,  of  good  appear- 
ance— in  citizen's  clothes.  He  was  walking  up  and  down 
the  room  and  with  such  a  look  of  deliberation  on  his  face — 
physiognomy — manner — and  here,  [Turning  his  hand  near 
his  forehead.]  very,  very,  very  thoughtful.  I  had  a  kind 
of  presentiment  and  said  to  Petr  Ivanovich,  "There  is  some- 
thing out  of  the  way  here!"  Yes,  and  Petr  Ivanovich 
immediately  crooked  his  finger  and  summoned  the  inn- 
keeper, Vlas, — his  wife  gave  birth  to  a  child  three  weeks 
ago,  and  such  a  bouncing  boy;  he'll  be  like  his  father,  an 
innkeeper — having  called  up  Vlas,  Petr  Ivanovich  asked 
him  quietly,  "Who  is  this  young  man?"  And  Vlas 
answered,  "This,"  says  he — oh,  do  not  interrupt,  Petr  Ivan- 
ovich, if  you  please,  do  not  interrupt  me ;  you  would  not 
be  able  to  tell  the  story  any  better,  so  help  me,  you  would 
not.  You  lisp — you  whistle  when  you  talk.  "This  young 
man,"  says  he,  "is  an  official."  Yes,  "he  has  come  from  St. 
Petersburg,"    says  he,    "and  his  name,"    says  he,    "is  Ivan 


KCVIAUK, 


Aleksondrovich  Khlestakov,  and  he  is  on  his  way,"  says 
he,  "to  the  government  of  Saratov,  and,"  says  he,  "he  is 
introducing  himself  in  the  strangest  way.  He  has  been  liv- 
ing here  for  nearly  two  weeks.  He  has  not  left  the  place 
once.  He  charges  everything  and  won't  pay  a  kopeck." 
When  he  told  me  this,  it  dawned  upon  me  here  above. 
[Points  to  his  head.]    "Oho,"  said  I  to  Petr  Ivanovich  .  .  . 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  No,  Petr  Ivanovich.  it 
was  I  who  said,   "Oho !" 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  You  said  it  first,  and  then 
I  said  it.  "Oho,"  said  I  and  Petr  Ivanovich.  "And  for 
what  reason  is  he  staying  here  when  he  is  on  his  way  to 
Saratov?"  .  .  .     Yes,  he  is  the  official. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Who?    What  official? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  The  government  inspec- 
tor referred  to  in  your  letter — the  revisor. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Terrified.]  As  I  am  a  man  and 
a  sinner !    Don't  say  that !    He's  not  the  revizor ! 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  He — he  don't  pay  his 
bills  and  don't  leave.  Who  else  could  it  be  ?  His  postchaise 
is  ordered  for  Saratov. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  He's  the  one  all  right! 
You  should  have  seen  him.  The  way  he  pried  into  every- 
thing. When  he  saw  that  I  and  Petr  Ivanovich  were  eating 
salmon — salmon  for  Petr  Ivanovich's  stomach — yes  he  even 
came  up  behind  us  and  peeked  into  our  plates — I  shook  in 
my  shoes. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Oh  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us, 
sinners  !    What  room  has  he  there  ? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Room  number  5,  at  the 
head  of  the  staircase. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  The  very  room  where 
those  officers  had  that  fight! 


Ш 


REVIZOR.  XI 

Anton  Antonovich.     And  has  he  been  here  long? 
Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.     About  two  weeks.     He 
arrived  on  the  day  of  St.  Basil  of  Egypt. 

[Anton     Antonovich     betrays     great     agitation, 
clutching  his  head  and  tearing  his  hair. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Well,  Anton  Antonovich,  don't 
you  think  that  we  had  better  don  our  uniforms  and  pay  a 
formal  call  on  him  at  the  inn? 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  No,  no!  First  send  the  Mayor, 
the  clergy,  and  a  delegation  of  the  merchants. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Looks  dozvn  a  bit.]  No,  no,  let 
me  do  this.  I  have  been  in  a  worse  fix  than  this  in  my  life 
before  and  gotten  out,  and  the  joke  was  on  the  other  fellow. 
May  God  help  me  now!  [Turning  to  Petr  Ivanovich 
Bobchinski.]     You  say  that  he's  a  young  man? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  Yes,  a  young  man  of 
twenty-three  or  twenty-four — not  much  over. 

Anton  Antonovich.  So  much  the  better.  A  young 
fellow  is  easy.  It's  the  old  fool  that's  hard  to  deal  with. 
You  gentlemen,  you  had  better  look  after  your  affairs.  I'll 
see  about  him.  I'll  go  myself,  or  perhaps  with  Petr  Ivano- 
vich, down  to  the  inn,  casually,  as  though  for  a  walk,  in  my 
official  capacity  to  investigate  the  welfare  of  the  travelers. 
Hei,  Svistunov! 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Let's  go,  Ammos  Fedrovich.  It's 
better  for  us  to  be  somewhere  else. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  What  have  you  to  be  afraid  of? 
Put  clean  nightcaps  on  and  you  are  all  right. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Nightcaps!  The  patients  are 
supposed  to  have  gruel,  and  all  over  the  hospital  there's 


12  REVIZOR. 

a  smell  of   cabbage   strong  enough  to   knock  you   down. 
Nightcaps ! 

[Ammos  Fedrovich,  Artemi  Filippovich,  Luka 
Lukich,  and  Ivan  Kuzmich  go  out  through  the 
street  door,  and  in  the  doorway  bump  against  the 
returning  sergeant. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Is  my  droshki  at  the  door? 

Svistunov.     Yes,  sir ! 

Anton  Antonovich.  Go  on  duty.  Or  no,  wait!  Go 
and  fetch — where  are  the  others?  Are  you  all  alone  here? 
I  will  order  Prokhorob  to  be  here.  Where  is  Prokhorob? 
Where  is  the  Chief  of  Police? 

Svistunov.     In  the  station  house,  but  unfit  for  duty. 

Anton  Antonovich.     What  do  you  mean? 

Svistunov.  Brought  in  this  morning — more  dead  than 
alive — two  buckets  of  water — not  sobered  up  yet. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Clutching  his  head.]  My  God! 
On  duty!  No,  run  into  my  room,  do  you  hear,  and  get 
my  sword  and  hat.     Well,  Petr  Ivanovich,  let's  go. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  I'd  like  to  peep  through 
the  keyhole  to  see  what  he'll  do. 

[Svistunov  returns  with  hat,  box,  and  sword,  and 
puts  both  on  table — the  hat  back  of  the  box. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Taking  the  sivord  to  the  ser- 
geant.] Run  at  once.  Get  policemen,  let  each  take  one — 
take — damn !  how  my  sword  is — let  every  man  (the  devil 
take  them)  take  a  broom  and  sweep  a  street — especially 
sweep  the  street  in  front  of  the  inn  clean.  Do  you  hear? 
And  listen,  you !    I  know  you  !  You're  too  popular !    You're 


REVIZOR.  13 

stealing  right  and  left.  Look  out.  You're  taking  more 
than  a  petty  officer's  share!  Go!  [He  goes  out  through 
the  street  door.  Enter  Stepan  Ilich.]  Now,  listen, 
Stepan  Ilich,  the  revizor  from  St.  Petersburg  has  come. 
What  have  you  done? 

Stepan  Ilich.  Just  as  you  ordered.  I  have  sent  Ser- 
geant Pugovichyn  with  the  whole  force  to  clean  up  the 
sidewalks. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Where  did  you  send  Derzhi- 
morda  ? 

Stepan  Ilich.     To  the  fire  department. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Is  Prokhorov  drunk? 

Stepan  Ilich.     Drunk! 

Anton  Antonovich.     Why  did  you  permit  it? 

Stepan  Ilich.  God  knows.  There  was  a  fight  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town  yesterday.  He  went  there  to  restore 
order,  and  he  came  back  drunk. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Listen!  Order  Sergeant  Pugo- 
vichyn— he  is  a  big  man — to  stand  on  duty  on  the  bridge 
for  the  sake  of  appearances.  Oh,  good  heavens,  I  forgot! 
There  are  about  forty  carts  of  rubbish  by  that  bridge.  What 
a  filthy  town  this  is !  They  will  dump  all  their  rubbish 
there.  [57°7z.y.]  And  if  the  revizor  should  ask  them  if  they 
are  satisfied  with  the  government  service,  they  must  answer, 
"Satisfied  with  everything,  your  honor."  And  if  there  is 
anybody  that  isn't  satisfied,  I  will  make  it  mighty  hot  for 
him  afterwards.  Oh  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us,  miserable 
offenders!  If  I  can  only  carry  this  off,  I  will  put  such  a 
candle  on  the  altar  as  has  never  been  seen  before.  I'll 
make  every  one  of  those  rascally  merchants  give  up  three 
pounds  of  wax  for  it.  Oh  Lord,  oh  Lord!  Now  let  us 
go,  Petr  Ivanovich.     [He  takes  the  box  in  place  of  his  hat.] 


ACT  SECOND. 

Scene — A  small,  dark  room  in  the  inn.  On  the  left,  on 
the  floor  near  the  front,  a  couple  of  white,  round,  empty 
bottles,  a  pair  of  boots  and  leather  overshoes,  a  red  blouse 
or  two;  from  the  left  corner,  extending  into  the  background 
and  a  little  off  the  floor,  a  semiwinding  staircase  rises  into 
the  ceiling;  close  to  the  staircase,  along  side  of  the  back- 
ground, a  large  chemodan,  a  large  leather  bag  zvith  a  box- 
like shape  bottom.  Osip's  coat  and  cap  on  it;  over  the 
chemodan,  a  few  plain  iron  nails;  in  about  the  middle  of 
the  background,  a  small  door,  poorly  fastened;  in  the 
right  wall,  a  small  window,  a  table  under  it,  and  a  chair 
nearby;  another  chair;  upon  the  table,  a  clothes  brush, 
matches,  ashes,  two  black  earthenware  pots,  one  small  and 
one  large;  a  tumbler  in  a  saucer,  a  small,  deep  saucer,  extra; 
a  brass  candlestick,  green  with  wear;  a  narrow,  wooden 
bed,  near  the  front  on  the  right,  with  head  close  to  the  wall, 
a  square  pillow,  and  the  necessary  bedclothes  on  it. 

Time — Early  in  the  afternoon.    The  room  is  dark. 

Discovered — Osip  is  lying  on  his  master's  bed,  as  the 
curtain  goes  tip.  ■ 

Osip.  To  the  devil  with  it !  I'm  so  hungry !  My 
stomach !  We'll  never  get  home — second  month  since  St. 
Petersburg.  Ivan  Aleksondrovich — what  a  fool !  Gambled 
away  his  money,  and  now  just  sits  and  waits.  Why  don't  he 
stay  in  his  postchaise?  But,  no,  he  must  show  his  face  in 
every  town.    [Mocks  him.]    "Ei,  Osip,  get  me  a  better  room, 


»    -  ■чг-'"    т 


Arthur  Mowry  Hartwell,  ign. 
as  Marya  Antonovna. 


гнг 

Y  ) 


REYIZOR.  17 

and  order  a  good  dinner.  I  can't  stand  poor  cooking.  I 
must  have  things  decently  served."  I  wouldn't  mind  so 
much  if  he  was  only  somebody;  but  he's  nobody — only  a 
spendthrift — makes  friends  with  travelers,  plays  cards  with 
'em — and  then  the  fool  loses.  Some  days  we  stuff,  some 
days  we  starve — we're  starving  now.  And  it's  all  his  fault. 
What  can  I  do?  His  old  man  sends  him  money — he  rides, 
goes  to  the  theatre,  and  in  less  than  a  week  I  have  to  sell  his 
new  suit  to  the  old  clothes  man.  Oh,  I'm  so  tired  of  such 
a  life.  Why  the  deuce  don't  he  brace  up?  If  his  old  man 
only  knew  how  he  was  wasting  his  time  at  cards  he  would 
give  him  such  a  licking  that  he'd  remember  it.  Now,  the 
innkeeper  said  he  wouldn't  give  him  anything  to  eat  tilJ 
he  pays.    Oh,  if  I  could  only  have  some  cabbage  soup! 

[He  hurriedly  gets  up  from  the  bed. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Here,  take  it.     [He  hands  him 
the  cap  and  cane.]     Scoundrel,  you've  been  on  my  bed  again. 

Osip.     I  haven't  been  on  your  bed. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.       You  lie.    You  slept  on  it.     Is 
there  any  tobacco  there  ? 

Osip.     Of  course  not.     You  smoked  the  last  of  it  four 
days  ago. 

[Putting    the    things    azvay.] 


[Walking   up   and  down    the 


Ivan   Aleksondrovich.     [Walking  around  and  warily 
twisting  his  lips;  then  speaking  in  a  loud  and  resolute  voice.] 


Ivan 

Aleksondrovich. 

Look  here,  Osip. 

Osip. 

Sir? 

Ivan 

Aleksondrovich. 

room.] 

You  go  down   .    . 

Osip. 

Where? 

1 8  REVIZOR. 

Down  stairs  to  the  buffet.  Tell  them  they  should  send  me 
up  dinner. 

Osip.     I  won't  go. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [In  a  loud,  but  not  as  resolute 
a  voice.]    How  dare  you,  you  blockhead! 

Osip.  All  right,  all  right.  Anyway,  if  I  should  go,  it's 
no  use.  The  innkeeper  said  he  wouldn't  send  up  any  more 
dinners. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  He  wouldn't  dare  not  to.  What 
a  bluff! 

Osip.  He  even  said  that  he  would  complain  to  the 
police.  You  haven't  paid  your  bill  for  over  three  weeks. 
"You  and  your  master  are  dead  beats" — these  are  his  very 
words — "You  and  your  master  are  dead  beats,  and  I've  seen 
that  kind  before." 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     You  needn't  repeat  it,  fool. 

Osip.  And,  what's  more,  he  said  he  wasn't  going  to 
stand  it  any  longer.  "I'll  report  him  to  the  police" — these 
are  his  very  words — "and  I'll  have  him  arrested;  and  I'll 
have  him  locked  up  in  jail." 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  That  will  do  for  you.  You  go 
and  tell  him  .  .  . 

Osip.     Call  him  up  here.     You  can  talk  to  him. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  I?  I  don't  want  to  see  him. 
You  go  and  tell  him  .  .  . 

Osip.     But  surely,  sir  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Well,  go  call  the  landlord. 
[Osip  goes  out.]  Beastly  hungry!  Took  a  short  walk — 
hoped  to  lose  my  appetite.  Didn't!  What's  the  use  of 
an  appetite — with  no  credit? 

Osip  and  the  Waiter  enter. 


С**  Щ 

ikr         /*■ 

f'~  \^ш 

ш    Л 

efts      ' 

Wg^  щ     w  ~ 

l-ф* 

Thomas  A<  helis,  1908, 
as  Iran  Aleksondrovich. 


V    ef-ГНЕ 

UNI" 


REVIZOR.  19 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Ah!  Here's  the  waiter?  And 
how  are  things  coming'  to-day?    Well?  ' 

Waiter.     Yes,  sir,  thank  you,  sir. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  And  everything  all  right  in  the 
hotel  ? 

Waiter.     Yes,  sir,  thank  you,  sir. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Hotel  full? 

Waiter.     Yes,  sir,  thank  you,  sir. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  By  the  way,  there  seems  to  be 
some  delay  about  my  dinner.  Would  you  mind  asking  them 
to  hurry  it  up  a  bit?  You  see,  I  have  an  engagement  right 
after  dinner. 

Waiter.  But  the  boss,  he  said  you  couldn't  have  no  din- 
ner;  he'd  a  strong  mind  to  get  the  police. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  But  what  good  would  that  do  ? 
Just  stop  and  think.  I  must  eat,  mustn't  I?  If  I  don't 
eat,  I  die.  He  wouldn't  like  that!  And  I'm  very  hungry 
now. 

Waiter.  Well,  the  boss,  he  said,  "He  don't  get  no  more 
dinners  until  I  see  his  money."    That's  what  the  boss  said. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  But,  you  reason  with  him.  Use 
a  little  tact.    Tact ! 

Waiter.     Use  what,  sir? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Tact.  Tell  him  that  I  simply 
must  eat.  Money  is  a  secondary  consideration.  Maybe  he 
can  go  without  eating.    I  cannot !    Tell  him  that. 

Waiter.     Just  as  you  say,  sir !    Just  as  you  say.       [Exit. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Lord,  what  a  hole  if  the  dinner 
doesn't  come !  What  shall  I  do  ?  Sell  my  clothes  ?  Damned 
if  I  will !  I  must  have  decent  clothes.  A  fellow  can't 
travel  on  his  face.  I  wish  Yokhim  had  let  me  have  his 
carriage.  Great  thing  to  go  home  in  a  gay  turnout — 
with  lanterns,  and  Osip  in  livery.    Oh,  I'm  so  hungry ! 


20  REVIZOR. 

Osip  enters  and  then  Waiter. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Well? 

Osip.     It's  coming! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Dinner !   dinner !  dinner ! 

Waiter.  [With  plates  and  napkins  on  a  Japanese  tray.] 
The  boss,  he  says  this  is  the  last  time. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Oh,  that  landlord!  I'm  tired 
of  him !     He  makes  too  much  fuss ! 

Waiter.     Soup  and  roast. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Only  two  courses  ? 

Waiter.     That's  all  the  boss  sent. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  How  absurd!  I  can't  under- 
stand it  at  all.  Ask  him  what  he  means  by  such  nonsense. 
This  isn't  enough! 

Waiter.     Well,  the  boss,  he  said  it's  too  much ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     But  the  salad  and  the  dessert? 

Waiter.     Ain't  no  salad  nor  dessert! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  What  nonsense !  I  saw  plenty 
in  the  dining  room. 

Waiter.  Well,  you  see  sir,  it's  this  way :  there  is  plenty, 
and  then  again  there  ain't. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     What  do  you  mean? 

Waiter.     In  your  case,  there  ain't ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Where's  the  fish  and  entree? 

Waiter.     You  don't  get  no  fish  and  entry. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Stupid! 

Waiter.     Yes,  sir. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Other  people  have  the  table 
d'hote.    Why  not  I  ? 

Waiter.     They  pay. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Perfectly  disgusting  soup! 

[He  tastes  it. 


REVIZOR.  2 1 

Waiter.     Chicken  soup,  sir. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Chicken  soup  !  That  soup  never 
saw  a  chicken !     Bring  me  an  order  of  .  .  . 

Waiter.  The  boss,  he  said,  if  you  didn't  like  it  you 
didn't  have  to  eat  it.  [Wants  to  take  the  soup  back. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Holding  on  to  soup.']  Wait 
a  minute,  wait  a  minute.  [Tastes  it  again.]  This  is  too 
disgusting.  Here  Osip,  you  can  have  it.  Give  me  the 
roast.     [He  tries  to  cut  it.]     This  isn't  a  roast! 

Waiter.     What  is  it,  then  ? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Heaven  only  knows,  but  it 
isn't  a  roast.     Nothing  else? 

Waiter.     No. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Idiots  !  Nothing  fit  to  eat.  The 
way  they  rob  a  fellow.  Hungry  as  ever.  [Osip  goes  out.] 
Nothing  to  eat !     No  credit !     No  money ! 

Osip  enters. 

Osip.  The  police  prefect  is  downstairs.  He  wants  to  see 
you. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  The  police!  It's  all  up!  The 
rascal  was  in  a  devilish  hurry  with  his  complaint !  I  simply 
will  not  go  to  jail!  What  does  he  take  me  for?  A  tramp? 
[He  musters  up  courage  and  straightens  out.]  Whatever 
happens,  I'll  look  him  straight  in  the  eye,  and  I'll  say,  "How 
dare  you,  how  .  .  ." 

[The  door  knob  is  heard  turning;    he  grows  pale 
and  shrivels  up  a  little. 

Enter  Anton  Antonovich  and  Petr  Ivanovich  Dob- 
CHINSKI,    ivho    is   nearly    all    the    time    behind    the   Police 


Prefect.  Anton  Antonovich,  having  entered,  remains 
still.  Both,  frightened,  look  a  few  minutes  at  each  other 
with  bulging  eyes. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Having  come  to  himself  a  little, 
he  assumes  the  posture  of  attention.']     Good  afternoon,  sir. 

[Osip  gets  out  of  the  way,  quietly. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     [Bowing.']     My  compliments. 

Anton  Antonovich.     I  beg  your  pardon  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Quite  unnecessary,  sir. 

Anton  Antonovich.  As  police  prefect,  it  is  my  duty 
to  look  after  the  welfare  of  the  guests  of  this  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Stammering  a  little  at  first,  but 
at  the  end  of  his  remark,  speaking  loud  and  clear.]  I'll 
pay  all  right.  I  can't  help  it!  It  isn't  my  fault  anyhow. 
[Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski  looks  in  through  the  opening 
of  the  door.]  It's  all  the  landlord's  fault!  He  gives  me 
the  worst  meat  you  ever  saw,  and  the  soup — the  devil  only 
knows  what's  in  that  soup.  I  had  to  throw  it  out.  He's 
been  starving  me  for  days.  I'm  not  to  blame!  It's  too 
absurd ! 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Timidly.]  I  beg  your  pardon. 
I  surely  am  not  to  blame.  I  always  see  that  there  is  good 
meat  in  the  market.  The  Kholmogorski  cattle  dealers 
usually  bring  good  meat.  They  are  honorable  and  well- 
behaved  people.  I  really  do  not  see  where  the  landlord  gets 
poor  meat!  If  you  are  not  comfortable  here,  I'll  take 
you  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  No,  no,  I  don't  want  you  to! 
I  know  what  that  means!  What  right  have  you  to  take 
me  to  jail?     How  dare  you?     I  ...  I  am  in  the  official 


REVIZOR.  23 

service  in  St.  Petersburg.  [He  grozvs  more  courageous.] 
I  ...  I  ...  I  ..  . 

Anton  Antonovich.     [Aside.]     We're  undone. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  You  and  yours  can  do  what 
you  please  .  .  .  I'll  not  go!  What  do  you  mean  by  this 
insolence?  What  do  you  mean  by  it!  I'll  report  you  to 
the  ministry. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Aside.]  Have  mercy  upon  me! 
Don't  ruin  me.  Remember  my  wife  and  children.  Don't 
ruin  me,  for  God's  sake! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  What  has  that  to  do  with  me? 
Because  you  have  a  wife  and  children  must  I  go  to  jail? 
It's  too  absurd.  [Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski  looks  in 
through  the  door  opening,  and  being  frightened,  hides 
himself.]     No,  thanking  you  very  much,  I  must  regret! 

Anton  Antonovich.  It's  not  my  fault,  it's  not  my  fault. 
A  prefect's  salary — what  can  you  do  with  that?  If  I  did 
take  bribes,  what  were  they  ?  Nothing ! — stuff  for  the  table, 
cloth  for  a  uniform.  As  for  that  sergeant's  widow,  I  never 
flogged  her !    That's  all  gossip !    Some  enemy  told  you  that ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  What  are  you  talking  about? 
I  don't  give  a  hang  for  your  enemies  or  your  sergeant's 
widow.  But  you  can't  flog  me!  You'd  better  not  try  it! 
Who  are  you  anyhow  ?  I'll  pay  all  right,  but  I  haven't  any 
money  just  now.    But  it's  on  the  way. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Aside.]  What  a  hole  I'm  in! 
[A  light  breaks  in  upon  him  from  Ivan  Aleksondrovich's 
last  zvords.  Attempting  to  bribe  him.]  Money?  If  it's  a 
question  of  money,  I  am  at  your  service,  sir.  My  pleasant- 
est  duty  is  to  help  out  in  occasions  of  this  kind. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Money!  You'll  lend  me  some? 
Then  I  can  pay  the  landlord  at  once.  I  only  want  two 
hundred  rubles — or  even  less. 


24  REVIZOR. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Handing  him  bills.]  Just  two 
hundred  rubles.  [Putting  up  purse.]  [Aside.]  The 
money's  well  spent. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Accepting  the  money.]  This 
is  very  good  of  you !  As  soon  as  I  get  home,  I'll  send  you 
the  money.  I  am  very  particular  about  such  things.  This 
is  really  very  good  of  you. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Assuming  an  air  of  confidence 
in  himself.]     I  am  only  too  glad  of  the  opportunity. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Ei,  Osip!  Call  that  waiter. 
[To  Anton  Antonovich  and  Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchin- 
ski.]     Won't  you  sit  down,  gentlemen?    Take  a  chair. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Don't  bother.     Don't  bother. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Do  sit  down.  At  first  I  didn't 
realize  that  you  came  to  pay  a  friendly  call.  I  must  con- 
fess, I  thought  that  you'd  come  to  take  me  .  .  .  [To 
Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinskl]     Won't  you  take  a  chair? 

[Both  sit  down.  Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski 
sticks  his  head  in  through  the  opening  of  the  door 
and  listens. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Getting  friendly.]  You  must 
know,  sir,  that  I,  representing  the  government,  and  Petr 
Ivanovich  Dobchinski,  a  representative  citizen,  determined 
to  investigate  the  inn  to  see  how  visitors  are  treated.  Most 
prefects  don't  trouble  about  such  matters.  But  I,  like  a 
good  Christian,  take  a  friendly  interest  in  the  neighborhood. 
And  this  is  my  reward — such  a  pleasant  chance  acquaint- 
ance. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  The  pleasure  is  mine,  I  assure 
you.  Without  your  aid  I  am  afraid  that  I  should  have 
tarried  here  quite  a  little  while. 


REVIZOR.  25 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Aloud.]  But,  may  I  ask  where 
you  go  from  here? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     To  my  home  in  Saratov. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Aside,  with  an  ironical  expres- 
sion on  his  face.]  Saratov!  He  confesses  it!  [Aloud.] 
In  the  government  service,  I  presume?  A  noble  career. 
And  quite  a  traveler.  Such  an  opportunity  for  a  young 
man  !     Traveling  for  your  own  pleasure  ? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  No,  I'm  bound  for  Saratov. 
My  father  sent  for  me.  He  thought  I  wasn't  getting  on 
fast  enough  in  St.  Petersburg. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Are  you  staying  in  Saratov  long? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Can't  say.  My  father  is  getting 
old  and  obstinate.  I  shall  tell  him  frankly  that  I  will  not 
waste  my  life  in  a  little  hole  in  the  country. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Quite  right !  The  country's  no 
place  for  a  young  man  nowadays.  Here  there  are  none  of 
the  comforts  of  a  city.  You  must  find  this  inn  very 
unpleasant. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Horrid  room!  Horrid  bed! 
Visitors  last  night ! 

Anton  Antonovich.  Just  to  think  of  it!  And  the  room 
not  well-lighted  either ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  And  the  fool  landlord  won't 
give  me  any  candles. 

Anton  Antonovich.     If  only  I  dared  suggest  it  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Yes? 

Anton  Antonovich.  No,  no,  I  am  afraid  that  you 
would  misconstrue  it. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Why,  what  is  it? 

Anton  Antonovich.  No,  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  honor. 
But  there  is  such  a  splendid  room  up  at  my  house,  light, 


26  REVIZOR. 

warm,  cosy  .  .  .  No,  I  realize  that  this  is  too  much  to 
ask !    Please  don't  be  offended  at  such  presumption. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  On  the  contrary,  I  accept  with 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  It  will  be  much  more  agreeable 
in  a  private  house. 

Anton  Antonovich.  You  don't  know  how  happy 
you've  made  me.  And  my  wife — wait  until  you  see  my 
wife !    The  deepest  feelings  of  my  heart  are  touched. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     This  is  very  kind  of  you. 

Enter  Osip,  accompanied  by  the  Waiter.  Petr  Ivano- 
vich  Bobchinski  looks  in  at  the  door. 

Waiter.     You  wanted  to  speak  to  me,  sir  ? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Bring  me  my  bill. 

Waiter.     You've  been  getting  bills  every  day. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  I  threw  them  in  the  waste- 
basket.     What's  the  account  ? 

Waiter.  You  paid  for  one  lunch  and  one  dinner.  After 
that  you  said,    "Charge  it!" 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Idiot!    How  much  do  I  owe? 

Anton  Antonovich.  I  am  sorry  for  this  annoyance. 
There  is  no  hurry.  [To  the  Waiter.]  Don't  bother  the 
gentleman.    His  credit's  good. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Well,  just  as  you  say.  I  put 
myself  entirely  in  your  hands. 

[Puts  the  money  back.     The  Waiter  leaves.     Petr 
Ivanovich  Bobchinski  looks  in  at  the  door. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Now  wouldn't  you  like  to  inspect 
some  of  our  philanthropic  institutions — the  hospital,  for 
instance  ? 


REVIZOR.  27 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     What  is  there  to  see  ? 
Anton  Antonovich.     You  will  be  interested  in  seeing 
how  it  is  managed. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     All  right,  if  you  wish  it. 

[Petr  Ivanovich   Bobchinski  shoves  his  head  in 
at  the  door. 

Anton  Antonovich.  And  then,  if  you  like,  we  can 
visit  the  school  of  applied  sciences. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     With  pleasure,  if  you  insist. 

Anton  Antonovich.  And  after  that — I  know  you  will 
enjoy  it — I'll  take  you  to  the  county  jail. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Jail! 

Anton  Antonovich.  The  prisoners  are  so  well  treated. 
We'll  be  glad  to  have  you. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Thanks  awfully,  but  suppose 
we  take  in  the  other  things. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Just  as  you  wish.  Do  you  prefer 
your  own  carriage,  or  will  you  come  with  me  in  my 
droshki. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Perhaps  I'd  better  go  with  you. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [To  Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchin- 
skl]  Petr  Ivanovich!  Well,  there  won't  be  any  room  for 
you. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Don't  mind  me;  I'll  be 
all  right. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [To  Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchin- 
ski.] Run  as  fast  as  you  can.  Deliver  a  couple  of  notes 
for  me,  one  to  Artemi  Filippovich  in  his  office,  the  other 
to  my  wife.  [To  Ivan  Aleksondrovich.]  I  trust  you'll 
pardon  me  if  I  write  a  line  to  my  wife  to  prepare  her  for 
the  reception  of  our  honored  guest. 
4 


28  REVIZOR. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Certainly.  You'll  find  pen  and 
ink  on  the  table.  Damn  it,  where's  the  paper?  [Taking 
from  wastebasket.]     Will  this  bill  do? 

Anton  Antonovich.  Yes,  that's  all  right.  [He  takes 
the  bill  and  writes,  speaking  to  himself  at  the  same  time.] 
We'll  see  how  things  go  after  lunch.  We'll  have  native 
Madeira.  It's  not  much  to  look  at,  but  it'll  make  any  man 
drunk. 

[Having  written  the  notes,  he  hands  them  to  Petr 

'  Ivanovich  Dobchinski,  who  walks  up  to  the  door. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski  falls  into  the  room. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [To  Ivan  Aleksondrovich.] 
Don't  mind  him.  Won't  you  be  so  kind  .  .  .  I'll  tell  your 
valet  to  bring  your  things  up  to  my  house.  [To  Osip.] 
My  dear  fellow,  bring  everything  up  to  my  house,  to  the 
police  prefect's — anyone  will  tell  you  where  I  live.  Will 
you  be  so  kind  .  .  .  [He  lets  Ivan  Aleksondrovich  pass 
first,  he  goes  after  him,  but  having  turned  around  he 
reproachfully  says  to  Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski:]  Why 
the  devil  did  you  come  in  here?  If  you  had  to  fall  down 
here,  why  couldn't  you  go  somewhere  else? 

[He  goes  out;    Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski  goes 
out  after  him. 

End  of  Second  Act. 


ACT    THIRD 

Scene — The  same  as  in  Act  I.  The  windows  are  open 
a  little  way. 

Time — About  sunset. 

Discovered — Anna  Andreevna  and  Marya  Antonovna 
are  standing  in  the  same  position  as  at  the  end  of 
Act  I,  as  the  curtain  goes  up.  Marya  Antonovna  goes  up 
to  the  looking  glass. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Three  mortal  hours  and  no  news! 
For  mercy's  sake  stop  fussing  with  your  dress.  You  make 
me  nervous. 

Marya  Antonovna.  [Going  to  the  zvindow.]  Avdotya 
must  be  back  soon.  [Hairpins  in  her  mouth.  She  looks 
out  of  the  window  and  shouts.]  Oh,  mother,  mother,  quick ! 
Somebody's  coming! 

Anna  Andreevna.  Who?  Where?  You're  always 
seeing  things.  Why,  bless  my  soul !  A  little  man  in  a 
long  coat.  О  dear,  О  dear!  [Trying  to  adjust  her  eye- 
glasses which  are  tangled  in  a  knot.]     Who  is  it? 

Marya  Antonovna.  It's  Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski, 
mother. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Dobchinski,  nonsense !  You're 
crazy.  It  isn't  Dobchinski  at  all!  [Waves  her  handker- 
chief.] Say,  you!  Come  here,  quick!  Where  are  they? 
Has  my  husband  seen  him?     Is  he  a  nice  man?     Answer, 


ЗО  REVIZOR. 

can't  you?  [Getting  away  from  the  window  a  bit,  and  with 
anger.]  The  mean  old  thing !  Always  stands  on  ceremony. 
Slow  as  a  snail ! 

Enter  Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski,  having  passed  the 
windows,  from  the  door  on  the  right,  and  later  Mishka. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Well,  well,  well,  what's  the  news? 
Why  don't  you  say  something?  Nobody  ever  tells  me  any- 
thing! 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Just  a  moment,  just  a 
moment,  Anna  Andreevna.  Indeed,  indeed,  I  am  so  out  of 
breath  .  .  .  Why,  it's  all  I  can  do  to  get  my  breath!  I 
ran  to  see  you  just  as  fast  as  my  legs  would  carry  me.  [Sees 
Marya  Antonovna.]  Ah,  Marya  Antonovna,  how  is  the 
young  lady  this  afternoon?    Need  I  ask?    Fresh  as  a  daisy. 

Marya  Antonovna.     Very  .  .  . 

Anna  Andreevna.  [To  Marya  Antonovna.]  You're 
nothing  of  the  sort !  Do  give  your  elders  a  chance  to  speak ! 
[To  Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.]  Now  tell  me  about  it. 
What's  he  like?  Who  was  there?  Is  he  a  general?  Does 
he  wax  his  mustache? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Here's  a  note  from 
Anton  Antonovich.  [Hands  her  the  note. 

Anna  Andreevna.  [Taking  the  note,  but  not  reading 
it.]     I  wonder  what  he's  said! 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Not  a  general,  exactly, 
but  so  refined  and  with  such  elegant  manners. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Gracious  me !  He  must  be  the  man 
they  wrote  my  husband  about. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  The  very  same  man. 
And  I  was  the  first  one  to  recognize  him — with  Petr 
Ivanovich. 


reviz6r.  3 x 

Anna  Andreevna.  Well,  then,  tell  me,  what's  it  all 
about  ? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  The  Lord  be  praised, 
everything  went  off  very  well.  At  first  he  was  very  stern 
with  Antonovich,  yes,  he  was  very  angry;  he  said  that 
everything  was  very  bad  at  that  hotel,  and  that  he  would 
not  come  to  the  house  at  all;  and  that  he  wouldn't  go  to 
jail  on  account  of  your  husband.  But  later,  when  he  was 
convinced  of  Anton  Antonovich's  innocence,  after  a  heart 
to  heart  talk,  he  changed  his  mind,  thank  the  Lord,  and 
everything  went  off  well.  Now  they  have  gone  on  a  tour 
of  inspection.  I  tell  you,  there  were  times  when  Anton 
Antonovich  was  awfully  frightened;  I  must  confess  that 
I  was  a  bit  scared  myself. 

Anna  Andreevna.  You,  what  have  you  to  be  afraid 
of?    You're  not  in  the  service. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Yes,  that's  true,  too. 
Still  a  man  feels  a  kind  of  awe  when  a  grandee  speaks. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Nonsense,  what's  that  got  to  do  with 
it?  Come  to  the  point!  Is  he  good  looking?  Is  he  old, 
or  young? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Young,  a  very  young 
man,  not  over  twenty-three,  but  he  speaks  like  a  man  of 
experience.  "Since  you  will  have  it  so,"  he  said,  "I  will 
go  here  or  there  .  .  ."  [He  swings  his  arms.]  And  he 
said  it  so  nicely,  too ! 

Anna  Andreevna.     Dark,  or  light? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Why,  I  shouldn't  exactly 
like  to  say  which.  Some  might  say  one  thing,  some  might 
say  the  other.    His  hair  is  ...  a  little  bit  red. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Stupid!  [Sees  note  in  hand.]  Oh, 
the  note!    [Reads.]    "I  hasten  to  inform  you,  my  dear,  that 


32  REVIZOR. 

my  prospects  were  very  dark,  but  trusting  in  a  kind  Provi- 
dence for  two  extra  dill  pickles  and  a  portion  of  caviar — 
one  ruble  and  twenty-five  kopecks  .  .  ."  [She  stops.] 
What  does  this  mean  ?    What  does  he  mean  by  dill  pickles  ? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Oh,  he  had  to  write  on 
an  old  bill. 

Anna  Andreevna.  [Grunts  and  continues  to  read.] 
".  .  .  but  trusting  in  a  kind  Providence,  everything  will 
come  out  all  right.  The  revizor  is  coming  to  stay  with  us. 
Get  the  spare  room  ready  and  have  a  good  meal.  Have 
Abdulin  send  up  some  of  that  native  Madeira.  I'll  make 
it  hot  for  him  if  he  don't.  Kissing,  my  dear,  your  little 
hand,  I  remain,  Your  loving  [turns  the  page]  lobster,  one 
ruble !  .  .  .     Glory  be !  .  .  .     Mishka ! 

[She  runs  to  the  door  and  shouts. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.    Mishka,  Mishka,  Mishka ! 

Mishka  enters  from  the  first  door  on  the  right. 

Anna  Andreevna.  [To  Mishka.]  Mishka,  take  this 
note — no,  wait,  give  it  to  Sidor.  Tell  him  to  run  to 
Abdulin's  for  wine.  You  stay  here  and  get  the  room  ready. 
Sheets,  towels,  soap  .  .  .  [She  counts  off  on  her  fingers.] 
Light  the  lamp  here  .  .  . 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  Well,  now  Anna 
Andreevna,  I'll  run  along  and  see  how  he's  inspecting  up 
there. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Go  right  along!  I'm  not  keeping 
you ! 


REVIZOR.  33 

Anna  Andreevna.  [To  Marya  Antonovna.]  Oh,  my 
dear,  we  must  get  dressed.  The  revizor  is  coming  to  visit 
us!     Dear  me!     Those  city  men  are  so  finicky! 

[Exeunt  Anna  Andreevna  and  Marya  Antonovna. 

Osip  enters  through  the  front  door  with  a  chemodan 
on  his  head. 

Osip.     Where  shall  I  put  this? 
Mishka.     Put  it  in  there. 

[Pointing  towards  Ivan  Aleksondrovichs  room. 

Osip.  Too  heavy!  Won't  go  a  step  further.  Not  a 
step  further.    Must  rest  a  moment.    All  worn  out. 

Mishka.     Say,  when's  the  general  coming? 

Osip.     General?    What  general? 

Mishka.     Your  master. 

Osip.     My  master,  he  ain't  no  general. 

Mishka.     Not  a  general! 

Osip.  Well,  not  exactly,  but — generals  ain't  in  it  with 
him! 

Mishka.     What  is  he,  then?     Bigger  than  a  general? 

Osip.     Bigger ! 

Mishka.  Then  that's  why  I  had  to  get  out  the  purple 
blanket  with  the  blue  border! 

Osip.     And  suppose  you  get  me  something  to  eat. 

Mishka.  O,  there's  nothing  ready  for  you  folks  yet. 
Only  common  victuals !     But  just  wait  awhile.     You'll  see! 

Osip.     Can't  wait.     What's  you  got  now? 

Mishka.     Nothing  but  sour  cabbage  soup. 

Osip.     Gimme  some. 


34  REVIZOR. 

Mishka.     Take  this  out  first. 
Osip.     Give  us  a  lift. 

[Both  carry  the  chemodan  into  the  side  room. 

The  police  sergeants  open  both  sides  of  the  door.  Enter 
in  succession:  Ivan  Aleksondrovich,  feeling  good, 
Anton  Antonovich,  Artemi  Filippovich,  Luka  Lukich, 
Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski,  and  Petr  Ivanovich  Bob- 
chinski.  The  latter  wears  a  piece  of  surgeon's  plaster  on 
his  nose.  Anton  Antonovich  points  out  to  the  sergeants 
the  piece  of  paper  on  the  floor;  both  run  to  pick  it  up, 
rashly  pushing  one  another. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  .  .  .  wonderful  institutions. 
Jolly  good  idea,  this,  of  showing  people  around.  In  other 
cities,  officials  no  account.  Didn't  show  me  a  single, 
solitary  thing. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Winks  to  the  sergeants  to  get 
out;  they  go.]  In  other  cities,  I  dare  say,  the  city  officials 
think  only  of  themselves ;  here  we  think  only  of  our  duty. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  That  lunch  was  great.  Do  you 
lunch  like  that  every  day? 

Anton  Antonovich.  It  was  prepared  expressly  for 
[The  others  signal  to  him  not  to  give  the  plot  azvay.]  .  .  . 
for  a  chance  visitor  like  yourself. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Epicurus  was  right.  One  lives 
to  pluck  the  flowers  of  pleasure.  What  was  the  name  of 
that  fish? 

Artemi  Filippovich.  [Running  up  to  Ivan  Alekson- 
drovich.]    The  very  best  pickled  octopus. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Wonderful  fish!  And  where 
did  we  have  that  sumptuous  repast  ?     In  the  morgue  ? 

Artemi  Filippovich.     No,  sir,  in  the  hospital. 


REVIZOR.  35 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  To  be  sure. — Disinfectants! — 
But  the  patients,  did  they  all  get  well? 

Artemi  Filippovich.  All  except  ten.  Due  to  the 
wonderful  treatment  and  system.  Since  I  have  been  in 
charge,  they  never  tarry  here  very  long.  Trust  me,  I  see  to 
that. 

Anton  Antonovich.  The  planning  of  this  superb 
system  is  due  to  the  brain  work  of  the  chief  of  police.  Any 
other  prefect — well,  we  won't  go  into  that — but,  even  when 
I'm  in  bed,  it  keeps  me  awake  contriving  how  to  impress 
my  superior  officers.  Not  that  I  am  looking  for  honors 
at  all, — they're  nothing  in  themselves, — only  I  do  like  to  be 
appreciated. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  [An  ironical  wink  aside.]  Anton 
Antonovich,  we  all  know  your  worth ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Beautifully  put!  I  am  a  bit 
of  a  philosopher  myself.  Sometimes  I  do  it  in  poetry; 
sometimes  in  prose.  Speaking  of  diversions,  where's  the 
club  here?    Do  you  play  cards? 

Anton  Antonovich.  Gambling!  Clubs!  No  such 
place  in  town !    Never  touched  a  card  in  my  life ! 

Luka  Lukich.  [To  the  man  next  to  him.]  He  did  me 
out  of  a  hundred  last  night. 

Anton  Antonovich.  My  precious  time  belongs  to  my 
country. 

Anna  Andreevna  in  the  straw  colored  dress,  and  Marya 
Antonovna  in  the  figured  dress,  enter  from  the  first  door 
on  the  left.  All  rise  from  their  seats  and  remain  standing 
until  asked  to  sit  down  by  Ivan  Aleksondrovich. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [To  Ivan  Aleksondrovich.] 
May  I  take  the  liberty  of  introducing  my  family?  My 
wife  .  .  .  my  daughter  .  .  . 


36  REVIZOR. 

[All  bow.    Ivan  Aleksondrovich  shakes  hands  with 
the  ladies. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  I  am  extremely  glad,  ladies,  to 
have  this  opportunity  of  meeting  you. 

Anna  Andreevna.  The  pleasure  is  all  ours,  I  assure 
you. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Pardon  me,  madam,  if  I  con- 
tradict you.     My  pleasure  is  infinite. 

Anna  Andreevna.  So  good  of  you  to  say  so,  but 
really  it  is  too  much.    Won't  you  have  a  chair? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Great  pleasure  even  to  be 
standing  near  you.  But  since  you  insist  .  .  .  [Anna 
Andreevna  sits  down  on  the  sofa,  he  near  her.]  It  gives 
me  great  pleasure  to  sit  so  near  you. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Oh,  you  can't  mean  it!  .  .  .  It 
must  be  very  stupid  for  you  here,  after  St.  Petersburg 
society. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Perfectly  deadly.  In  St. 
Petersburg,  we  live ;  comprenez-vousf  But  this  evening 
[He  throws  glances  at  Anna  Andreevna  and  shows  off.] 
rewards  me  for  all  I  have  suffered. 

Anna  Andreevna.  You  flatter  me.  We  country 
folks  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  But  the  country  is  charming — 
little  hills,  little  streams,  little  birds, — but  it  isn't  St.  Peters- 
burg. That's  the  place  for  me.  On  the  best  of  terms  with 
everybody — dine  every  Sunday  with  my  chief — only  one 
in  the  department  that  gets  asked.  And  when  I  go  into 
the  office,  you  ought  to  see  those  clerks  stand  around.  The 
guard  salutes  me  on  the  stairs  with,  "Can't  I  shine  your 
shoes"  ...  [To  Anton  Antonovich  and  the  others.] 
Sit  down,  gentlemen.     Make  yourselves  comfortable. 


Matthew  Griswold  Ely,  1910S. 
as  Anna  Andreevna. 


REVIZOR.  37 

Anton  Antonovich.     Not  for  a  moment.   ]  [All  at 

Artemi  Filippovich.     We'll  stand.  J-     the  same 

Luka  Lukich.     I  never  sit  down.  j  time. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Please  don't  stand  on  cere- 
mony. [Anton  Antonovich  and  the  rest  sit  down.]  On 
the  contrary,  I  wish  to  forget  my  rank  and  travel. incognito. 
But  such  is  fame.  They  always  find  me  out !  They  nudge 
one  another  and  whisper,  "That  is  Ivan  Aleksondrovich." 
Once  I  was  even  taken  for  the  commander-in-chief ;  the 
soldiers  ran  out  of  the  guardhouse  and  saluted  me. 

Anna  Andreevna.     Not  really ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  And  the  actresses  I  know !  and 
the  authors !  Even  the  great  Pushkin  and  I  are  chums. 
I  often  used  to  say  to  him,  "Well,  Pushkin,  dear  fellow, 
how  are  things?"  "Oh,  so-so,  old  boy,"  he  would  say  to 
me  .  .  .  He  was  a  genius.  But  I'm  something  of  a 
writer  myself. 

Anna  Andreevna.  An  author!  How  delightful!  Do 
you  write  for  the  papers? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  All  of  them — little  things — Le 
Manage  de  Figaro,  Fra  Diavolo,  or  Norma — written  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment,  just  to  please  the  managers.  Of 
course  I  don't  want  it  known,  but  Voltaire  is  my  пот  de 
plume. 

Anna  Andreevna.     Do  tell !    And  you  are  Voltaire ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Yes,  I  live  for  my  art.  At  my 
salons  in  St.  Petersburg  one  meets  all  the  literary  lions 
of  the  day.  [Facing  everybody.]  Drop  in,  when  you're  in 
town. 

Anna  Andreevna.     I'd  just  love  to !     Such  elegance ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Don't  mention  it!  You  should 
just  see  my  dinners.     Watermelon — seven  hundred  rubles! 


38  REVIZOR. 

Soup  expressed  from  Paris!  Oh,  the  smell  of  it!  You 
can  smell  it  down  five  flights  of  stairs  ...  Of  course, 
figuratively  speaking,  as  you  must  know,  I  live  on  the  first 
floor.  My  morning  levees  are  jammed  with  all  the  nobility 
buzzing  like  bees.  Even  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  is 
there!  [Anton  Antonovich  and  the  rest  get  up  very 
timidly  from  their  seats.]  When  Petrovich  was  bombed — 
of  course  I  didn't  want  his  place,  but  what  was  I  to  do? 
Princes,  generals,  counts,  they  all  threw  it  over.  It  was 
too  much  for  them.  I  took  it.  They  insisted.  I  was  in 
my  bathrobe,  but  I  was  afraid  that  it  would  reach  the 
Czar.  So  I  said:  "If  it  is  your  will,  gentlemen,  I  accept 
this  duty;  so  be  it,  I  accept.  But  remember,  if  I  under- 
take it,  no  fooling.  I  have  a  very  sharp  eye."  Oh,  I'm 
a  human  earthquake!  [Anton  Antonovich  and  all  pres- 
ent shake  from  fear.  Ivan  Aleksondrovich  continues 
with  increased  fervor.]  I  don't  stand  for  half  measures. 
Even  the  Imperial  Council  is  afraid  of  me.  But  I'm  not 
afraid  of  the  devil  himself.  So  they  promote  me  every 
day.     I'm  sure  of  my  position  .  .  . 

[He  slips  off  his  seat  almost  onto  the  floor,  but  the 
functionaries  help  him  with  great  reverence. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Shaking  with  his  whole  body, 
goes  up  to  Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  He  tries  to  speak. 
Stammers.] 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [In  a  quick,  abrupt  voice.] 
What's  the  matter  with  you? 

Anton  Antonovich.     [Still  stammers.] 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [In  the  same  voice  as  before.] 
Are  you  drunk? 


reviz6r.  39 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Agitated.  Still  stammers.] 
Y-o-u-r  E-x-c-e-1-l-e-n-c-y !  Will  you  not  rest?  Every- 
thing is  ready. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Nonsense,  rest!  all  right,  all 
right,  rest!  Gentlemen,  the  lunch  was  bully.  [Declaim- 
ing.]    Oh,  those  toothsome  octopoi! 

[Goes  into  the  room  on  the  side,  the  police  prefect — 
Anton  Antonovich — after  him. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  [To  Petr  Ivanovich 
Dobchinski.]  A  man,  Petr  Ivanovich!  He's  what  I  call 
a  man !  Never  before  have  I  seen  such  a  great  man.  I 
nearly  died  of  fear.  What  do  you  think  is  his  rank,  Petr 
Ivanovich  ? 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.  I  think  he  must  be  some- 
thing like  a  general. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  Generals  aren't  in  it  with 
him.  At  the  very  least  he  belongs  to  the  generality.  Even 
the  Imperial  Council  are  afraid  of  him !  Ammos  Fedrovich 
and  Korobkin  should  know  of  this.  Good-bye,  Anna 
Andreevna. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.     Good-bye,  godmother. 

[Both  go  out  through  the  street  door. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  [To  Luka  Lukich.]  Isn't  it 
awful?  We  aren't  even  in  our  uniforms !  Suppose  he  com- 
plains to  St.  Petersburg!  [They  walk  out  thoughtfully, 
saying:]    Good-bye,  madam. 

Anna  Andreevna.     Isn't  he  a  nice  man  ? 

Marya  Antonovna.     Charming ! 


40  REVIZOR. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Such  refined  manners — really  a  man 
of  the  world — so  genteel  and  all  that.  Isn't  he  grand!  I 
adore  people  like  him.  And  I  made  a  big  impression  on 
him,  too.     He  didn't  take  his  eyes  off  me  once. 

Marya  Antonovna.  Oh,  mother,  how  can  you  say 
that?    It  was  me  he  was  looking  at. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Have  it  your  own  way,  but  .  .  . 
[Anton  Antonovich  comes  back  from  the  first  door  on 
the  left.  Enters  on  tip-toe.]  Sh-Sh-  [To  Anton  Anton- 
ovich.]    Well? 

Anton  Antonovich.  I  wish  I  hadn't  given  him  so  much 
to  drink.  Well,  a  man  speaks  the  truth  when  he's  drunk. 
Even  if  it's  only  half  true,  what  a  hole  we're  in ! 

Anna  Andreevna.  I  wasn't  afraid  of  him.  I  was 
brought  up  in  polite  society. 

Anton  Antonovich.  But  you  were  entirely  too  familiar 
with  him,  my  dear ;   you  treated  him  like  Petr  Ivanovich. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Don't  let  that  trouble  you  [Look- 
ing at  Marya  Antonovna.]     We  know  a  thing  or  two. 

[Looks  at  her  daughter. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Oh,  you  don't  understand !  What 
have  I  been  through!  [Opens  the  door  and  speaks  through 
it.]  Mishka,  call  sergeants  Svistunov  and  Derzhimorda. 
[After  a  short  pause.]  Things  are  coming  round  all  right, 
after  all.  At  the  end  I  didn't  know  where  I  stood  with  his 
yarns  and  his  allegories.  But  I  got  him,  and  he's  drunk, 
and  in  my  bed ! 

Osip  comes  in  from  the  second  door  on  the  left.  All 
run  towards  him,  beckoning  with  their  fingers. 


reviz6r.  41 

Anna  Andreevna.     Come  here,  my  dear  fellow. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Hush. — Is  he  asleep? 

Osip.     Not  yet.     Bilious. 

Anna  Andreevna.     What's  your  name? 

Osip.     Osip,  thank  you. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [To  his  wife  and  daughter.] 
Stop  a  minute.  Let  me  talk  to  him.  [To  Osip.]  Did  you 
get  enough  to  eat? 

Osip.     Lots  !    Full  to  here. 

[Shows  with  hand  that  they  filled  him  up  to  his  nose. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Now  tell  me,  does  your  master 
know  all  the  nobility? 

Osip.  [Scratches  back  of  his  head  for  loss  of  what  to 
answer;  finally:]     Not  quite  all. 

Marya  Antonovna.  Osip,  I  think  your  master  is 
awfully  handsome. 

Anna  Andreevna.     What's  your  master's  title. 

Osip.     The  usual  title. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Rubbish.  [To  Osip.]  You 
listen  to  me  !    Your  master's  very  severe,  isn't  he  ? 

Osip.     Very. 

Axton  Antonovich.  You're  a  good  fellow.  When  one 
travels,  tea  never  does  any  one  any  harm.  [He  hands  him 
two  bills.]     Here's  some  change  for  tea. 

Osip.     [Accepting  the  money.]     Thank  you,  sir. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Don't  mention  it.  It's  nothing  at 
all.     And  now  tell  me  .  .  . 

Anna  Andreevna.  What  are  your  master's  favorite 
eyes? 


42  REVIZOR. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Provoked.]  Now  stop  it !  Give 
me  a  chance!  [To  Osip.]  Now  tell  me,  how  can  we  best 
please  your  master? 

Osip.     Plenty  to  eat  and  plenty  to  drink. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Lots  of  good  things,  eh? 

Osip.  Yes,  lots  of  good  things.  And  he  wants  me 
treated  right,  too. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Now  you're  talking!  That  other 
money  was  for  tea;  this  .  .  .  [Gives  him  more  money.] 
is  for  sugar. 

Osip.     Thank  you,  sir.    I'll  drink  your  health. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Heaven  forbid!  You'll  wake 
him! 

Anna  Andreevna.  Come  Marya,  I  have  a  secret  to 
tell  you. 

[Marya  Antonovna  and  Anna  Andreevna  go  out 
through  the  first  door  on  the  left. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [To  his  wife  and  daughter.] 
Secrets!  As  if  I  wanted  to  know!  [To  Osip.]  Now  see 
here  .  .  . 

Svistunov  and  Derzhimorda  enter  through 
the  street  door. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [To  the  sergeants.]  Sh-sh! 
Quiet !     He's  asleep.    What  the  devil  do  you  want  ? 

Derzhimorda.     You  ordered  me  to  come! 

Anton  Antonovich.  Sh-sh !  [Puts  his  hand  on  the 
sergeant's  mouth.]  Donkey!  Why  can't  you  keep  still? 
[To  Osip.]     When  your  master  wakes,  we're  at  his  service. 


REVIZOR.  43 

[Osip  goes  into  his  master's  room.]  Stay  by  the  front  door. 
Don't  leave  it  for  a  second.  Don't  admit  anyone,  partic- 
ularly tradesmen.  And  if  anyone  of  them  looks  as  if 
he  had  a  petition,  dissuade  him.  [He  goes  through  the 
form  of  kicking.]     Sh-sh- ! 

[He  goes  out  the  front  door  on  his  tip-toes,  after  the 
sergeants. 


End  of  Third  Act. 


ACT    FOURTH. 

Scene — The  same  room  as  in  Act  I. 

Time — Middle  of  the  forenoon,  two  days  later. 

Enter  quietly,  almost  on  tip-toe:  Ammos  Fedrovich, 
Artemi  Filippovich,  Ivan  Kuzmich,  Luka  Lukich,  Petr 
Ivanovich  Bobchinski,  and  Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski. 
The  whole  scene  is  spoken  in  an  undertone. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [Forming  them  into  a  semicircle.] 
Sh-  !  Attention  !  May  the  Lord  be  with  us  !  He  knows  the 
Czar !  He  belongs  to  the  Imperial  Council !  You,  Petr 
Ivanovich,  come  here ;   you,  Petr  Ivanovich,  go  there. 

[Both   Petr    Ivanoviches   run    to    their   places   on 
tip-toe. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Ammos  Fedrovich,  we  must  do 
something. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.     Something?     What? 

Artemi  Filippovich.     You  know  what  I  mean ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.     Bribe? 

Artemi  Filippovich.     Bribe ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Criminally  liable.  Remember,  he  is 
an  official.  I  have  it!  We'll  all  subscribe  to  a  national 
monument — and  give  him  the  subscription. 


reviz6r.  45 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  Or  we  can  pretend  it's  money  lost  in 
the  mail. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  No,  you  can't  do  that  in  a  well- 
regulated  government.  We  can't  do  it  all  together.  One 
by  one.    Well,  you  begin.  [Ammos  Fedrovich  L.  С 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  No,  you  must  approach  our 
honored  visitor  first.    He  had  lunch  in  your  institution. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  No,  Luka  Lukich  is  the  man,  our 
distinguished  superintendent. 

Luka  Lukich.  No,  I  cannot,  I  cannot,  gentlemen.  I 
am  so  nervous. — In  the  presence  of  my  superiors,  I 
completely  collapse. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Under  the  circumstances,  [To 
Ammos  Fedrovich]  there's  no  one  better  than  yourself. 
You  are  so  eloquent — a  real  Cicero. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  A  Cicero!  This  is  too  much.  Of 
course  I  may  wax  eloquent  over  greyhound  pups,  but  .  .  . 

All  Present.  [Catching  hold  of  him.]  Ammos  Fedro- 
vich, don't  desert  us !    Save  us !    Save  us ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.     Release  me,  gentlemen. 

[At  this  time  are  heard  footsteps  and  slight  cough- 
ing from  Ivan  Aleksondrovich's  room.  Vying 
with  one  another,  they  all  run  to  the  street  door.  In 
trying  to  get  out,  they  crowd  themselves  together, 
and  squeeze  one  of  them  pretty  hard.  Subdued 
shrieks  are  heard.  Several  more  subdued  shrieks 
are  heard;  all  go  out;  the  stage  remains  empty 
for  a  second. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovtch  enters  from  his  room.  He  looks 
sleepy.  He  stretches  himself,  yawns,  and  acts  as  one  with 
a  big  head  caused  by  a  night's  spree.  Ammos  Fedrovich 
comes  in  from  the  door  on  the  right,  beholds  Ivan  Alek- 
sondrovich,  and  begins  to  shake  at  the  knees,  when  Ivan 
Aleksondrovich  sees  him. 


46  REVIZOR. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [In  pose  of  attention,  holding  on 
to  his  sword,  in  agitated  voice.]  I  have  the  honor  to  intro- 
duce myself;  I  am  the  judge  of  this  county,  the  Collegiate 
Assessor,  Ammos  Fedrovich  Laypkin-Tyapkin. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Won't  you  take  a  chair?  The 
local  judge,  did  you  say? 

[Both  sit  down  facing  each  other. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [Reciting,  as  though  prepared  by 
heart.]  In  1816,  I  was  appointed  for  three  years  at  the 
request  of  the  nobility,  and  have  continued  in  my  duties 
to  this  day. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  To  be  a  judge  must  be  profit- 
able, I  should  think.  [Ammos  Fedrovich,  growing  more 
nervous  because  of  pulling  his  hand  full  of  bills  out  of  his 
pocket.]     What  have  you  got  there? 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [Losing  himself  almost  completely, 
drops  a  bill  on  the  floor.]     Nothing. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     But  you  dropped  a  bill! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [Shivering  with  his  whole  body.] 
Impossible ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Picking  up  the  money.]  But 
you  did,  too !    It's  money. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [Aside,  zvhile  he  is  picking  it  up.] 
Criminally  liable ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  If  it  would  be  no  inconvenience, 
might  I  borrow  it? 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Surely,  surely,  with  the  greatest 
of  pleasure !  [He  grows  a  little  bolder. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  You  see,  I  have  spent  every 
kopek — here  and  there.  But  I  shall  surely  return  it  to  you 
just  as  soon  as  I  get  home. 


Charles  Roberts  Hopkins,  190 
as  .  tmmos  Fedrovich, 


reviz6r.  47 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Not  at  all,  not  at  all.  We  under- 
stand each  other.  I  consider  it  an  honor  .  .  .  Indeed, 
although  my  abilities  are  limited,  still  with  my  ardor  and 
devotion  to  the  authorities  .  .  .  [He  gets  up  from  the  chair 
and  assumes  a  pose  of  attention.]  But  I  dare  not  disturb 
you  with  my  presence  any  longer.    What  are  your  orders  ? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Orders?    What  orders? 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Why,  have  you  no  orders  for  the 
local  courts? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  What  for?  I  have  no  use 
for  the  courts  just  now.  No,  no  orders.  All  the  same, 
I  shall  not  forget  your  kindness. 

[Ammos  Fedrovich  bows  and  goes  out  feeling  very 
triumphant. 

Ivan  Kuzmich  enters  from  the  door  on  the  right;  wears 
uniform  and  assumes  attention  upon  entering. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  I  have  the  honor  to  introduce  myself. 
I  am  the  Postmaster,  the  Aulic  Councillor,  Ivan  Kuzmich 
Shpekin. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Glad  to  see  you.  Sit  down. 
You're  a  resident  of  this  city,  aren't  you  ? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     Yes,  sir. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Fine  town.  Not  many  people 
about.     But  well,  it's  not  the  capital.     Am  I  right? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     Quite  right. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Looks  into  Ivan  Kuzmich's 
eyes,  sizing  him  up  for  a  loan.]  Funny  thing  happened. 
I've  spent  every  single  kopek.  Could  you  possibly  lend  me 
three  hundred  rubles? 


48  REVIZOR. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  I  am  honored.  [Takes  out  a  pocket- 
book  with  money,  giving.]  I  am  only  too  glad  to  be  of 
service. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  So  good  of  you.  Hard  to  be 
without  money  when  traveling. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  Yes,  sir.  [Gets  up,  assumes  attention.] 
I  will  not  disturb  you  any  longer.  Have  you  any  sugges- 
tions concerning  the  postoffice? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     I  have  done  all  that's  necessary. 

[Ivan  Kuzmich  bows  and  goes  out.  Ivan  Alek- 
sondrovich looks  at  the  money — pleasingly  smiles 
and  pockets  it. 

Luka  Lukich  enters  from  the  right  as  though  he  were 
pushed  in;  when  the  door  opens,  a  voice  is  heard  saying, 
"Cheer  up." 

Luka  Lukich.  Permit  me  to  introduce  myself.  I  am 
the  superintendent  of  the  schools,  the  Titular  Councillor 
Khlopov,  Luka  Lukich. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  How  are  you  ?  Extremely  glad 
to  see  you.  Won't  you  sit  down.  [Luka  Lukich  sits 
down.  Ivan  Aleksondrovich  treats  him  to  a  cigar,  but 
he  is  reluctant  in  accepting.]  Won't  you  have  a  cigar? 
[Luka  Lukich  tries  to  light  the  cigar  at  the  wrong  end, 
still  shivering.]  You'd  better  try  the  other  end!  [Luka 
Lukich  is  so  nervous  now  that  he  drops  the  cigar  on  the 
floor,  and  hesitates  whether  to  pick  it  up  or  not.]  You  don't 
seem  to  be  much  of  a  smoker. 

Luka  Lukich.  [Stretching  the  words.]  Courage — all 
gone. — Your  High —  your  Exc —   your  Illust — 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Courage?  Nonsense!  Brace 
up!    We  shall  be  great  friends. — What  was  your  name? 


reviz6r.  49 

Luka  Lukich.     Luka  Lukich,  Luka  Lukich. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  To  be  sure,  Luka  Lukich. 
Always  did  like  that  name !    Lots  of  little  Luka's  I  suppose  ? 

Luka  Lukich.     Only  five,  but  two  are  grown  up. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Two  grown  up — just  to  think 
of  it.    What  do  you  call  the  little  ones  ? 

Luka  Lukich.  Nikolai,  Ivan,  Elizabeth,  Mary,  and 
Perepetya. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Indeed. 

Luka  Lukich.  [Getting  up.]  I  will  not  presume  to 
trouble  you  any  longer.     Your  time  is  precious. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Don't  go.  It  couldn't  be  spent 
to  better  advantage.  Your  conversation  is  so  entertaining. 
What  did  you  say  that  your  name  was  ? 

Luka  Lukich.     Luka  Lukich. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Luka  Lukich,  would  you  do  me 
a  favor?  Between  friends,  I  am  a  bit  short  of  funds.  Lend 
me  four  hundred  rubles — 

Luka  Lukich.  Four  hundred  rubles !  I  haven't 
got  it ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Well,  then,  a  hundred  will  do. 

Luka  Lukich.  [Searching  his  pockets.]  But  I've  only 
got  forty ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Look  again!  Look  in  your 
inside  pocket. 

Luka  Lukich.     But  I  haven't  any  more! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Well,  let  it  go.  No  matter. 
Forty  is  better  than  nothing. 

[He  gives  him  the  monby  and  he  accepts  it. 

Luka  Lukich.     Guess  I'll  go  now. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Most  agreeable  call ! 


5  О  REVIZOR. 

[Goes  out  through  the  door  on   the  right.     Ivan 
Aleksondrovich  escorts  him. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Ivan  Aleksondrovich,  when 
alone,  begins  to  count  his  money.  He  develops  a  smile  of 
satisfaction  according  to  the  increase  in  the  sum.  Having 
pocketed  the  money,  he  calls  Osip.]  Osip,  bring  me  pen 
and  ink.    I  want  to  write  a  letter.         [Sits  down  at  the  table. 

Osip.     [In  the  doorway.]     Yes,  sir. 

[Osip  comes  in  from  the  second  door  on  the  left. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Laughing  and  whistling  until 
Osip  comes  in  with  the  paper  and  the  ink.]  You  see,  stupid, 
it's  come  out  all  right. 

Osip.  Yes,  thank  the  Lord !  But  don't  you  know,  Ivan 
Aleksondrovich  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Know  what? 

Osip.     You'd  better  leave  town  before  it's  too  late ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [While  writing.]  Nonsense! 
Why? 

Osip.  Just  so.  You've  had  your  little  fling.  Why  risk 
it  any  longer  ?  Something's  sure  to  happen.  Let's  go  while 
we  can.    Fine  horses  here. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  What's  the  hurry?  We'll  go 
to-morrow. 

Osip.  To-morrow  ?  Now !  They've  taken  you  for 
somebody  else! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     I  know  it. 

Osip.  And  you're  late  now !  What  will  your  father 
say  ?    We  can  get  fast  horses  here  and  be  home  in  no  time. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  All  right,  I'll  go.  Mail  this 
letter  and  order  the  horses.     But  get  good  ones!      [Still 


REVIZOR.  5 r 

writing.]  Tryapichkin  will  just  die  of  laughing-  when  he 
gets  this  letter ! 

Osip.  Sir,  I'll  send  the  letter  to  the  post  to  save  time, 
and  pack  up. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Very  well.    Bring  me  a  candle. 

Osip.  [Osip  goes  out  through  the  second  door  on  the 
right.  He  leazrs  the  door  open,  talks  back  of  stage.]  Say, 
take  this  letter  to  the  post.  No  stamps — government  busi- 
ness. And  order  up  a  team  .  .  .  fastest  horses.  My 
master  pays  no  post  fare.  He's  in  the  government  service. 
[Short  pause.]     Wait  a  minute. 

[Comes  back  with  a  lighted  candle,  and  goes  up  to 
his  master. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Scaling  the  letter.]  I  wonder 
what's  his  address.  He'd  rather  move  than  pay  his  rent. 
Oh,  I'll  try  Pochtamskaya. 

[He  seals  the  letter  with  sealing-wax;    then  writes 
the  address.    Noise  is  heard  outside  the  house. 

Derzhimorda's  voice.  Where  are  you  going,  "Whisk- 
ers" ?    Against  orders  !    Can't  let  you  in  ! 

Tradesmen's  voices.  Let  us  in.  You  can't  keep  us 
out.     We're  here  on  business. 

Derzhimorda's  voice.  Get  away.  Get  away,  I  tell  you. 
He  won't  see  you.     He's  asleep. 

[The  noise  becomes  louder. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  What's  the  matter  there,  Osip? 
Look  out  of  the  window. 

Osip.  [Looking  through  the  window.]  Tradesmen  try- 
ing to  get  into  the  house. 


5  2  REVIZOR. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Tell  them  I'm  busy. 

Osip.  They've  got  petitions  and  all  kinds  of  presents 
for  you. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Going  to  the  door  on  the 
right.]  Presents!  Let  them  in.  Let  them  in.  [To  Osip, 
handing  him  the  letter.]  I  shall  graciously  accept  their 
presents.    You  go  mail  that  letter. 

[Osip  goes  out  through  the  second  door  on  the  left. 

The  sergeants  enter  with  their  presents  and  petitions. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Takes  the  petitions,  opens 
one,  and  reads:]  "To  His  Honorability  of  the  Highness, 
the  minister  to  the  Financial,  from  the  merchant  Abdulin 
.  .  ."     Where  the  devil  did  he  get  that  title  .  .  . 

[He  continues  reading,  under  his  breath. 

Marya  Antonovna  enters  from  the  first  door  on  the  left. 
She  wears  a  different  dress  and  a  hand-knitted  shawl  over 
her  shoulders. 

Marya  Antonovna.     [Somewhat  frightened.]     Oh! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     I  beg  your  pardon? 

Marya  Antonovna.  [Bashfully.]  I  didn't  expect  to 
find  you  here. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     No? 

Marya  Antonovna.     I  thought  mama  was  here. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     But  won't  I  do? 

Marya  Antonovna.  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  disturb  you. 
Aren't  you  busy  with  something  important? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Showing  off.]  You  disturb 
me  ?    Ah  no !    You  can  make  me  very  happy. 

Marya  Antonovna.  Oh,  that's  how  they  talk  in  St. 
Petersburg. 


REVIZOR.  53 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  But  only  to  .  .  .  you !  May 
I  offer  you  a  chair  ?     By  rights,  you  should  have  a  throne. 

Marya  Antonovna.  Really,  I  ...  I  wonder  where 
mama  can  be.  [Marya  sits  down. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Sitting  down  next  to  her.] 
What  a  beautiful  scarf. 

Marya  Antonovna.     You're  making  fun  of  me. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  That  scarf!  So  close  about 
your  little  neck ! 

Marya  Antonovna.  I  don't  understand.  What  queer 
weather  we're  having  to-day. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  What  is  the  weather  to  me? 
My  sunshine  is  in  your  smile! 

Marya  Antonovna.  Now  you  stop !  Will  you  write 
a  verse  in  my  album?  It  will  help  me  to  remember  you. 
You  must  know  lots  of  verses. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  For  you  I'll  do  anything.  Ask 
for  any  verse  you  like. 

Marya  Antonovna.  Oh,  .  .  .  something  good !  Some- 
thing new! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     But  I  know  so  many! 

Marya  Antonovna.  Tell  the  one  you  will  write.  I'd 
love  to  hear  it. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  How  about  this  one?  [Recites 
with  a  great  deal  of  manner.]  "Why  do  the  heathen  rage 
and  the  people  imagine  a  vain  thing?"  How's  that?  I'd 
much  rather  tell  you  how  I  love  you. 

[He  moves  up  his  chair. 

Marya  Antonovna.     Love,  I  do  not  understand  love. 

[Marya  Antonovna  moves  her  chair  away. 


54  REVIZOR. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Don't  do  that.  It's  so  much 
pleasanter  side  by  side. 

Marya  Antonovna.  [Still  moving  away.]  I  think  it's 
very  pleasant  over  here. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Moving  up  to  her.]  Exactly! 
Over  here! 

Marya  Antonovna.  [Again  moving  away.]  I'd  rather 
you'd  stayed  over  there! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Moving  up  to  her.]  Really? 
Then  let's  pretend  that  I  am — over  there.  Ah,  if  I  could 
only — !     [Bending  over  her.] 

Marya  Antonovna.  [Getting  up  to  look  out  of  the 
window.]  Oh,  what  was  it  that  flew  by  the  window  ?  Was 
it  a  crow  ? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [At  her  side.  Kissing  her  on 
the  shoulder,  looks  out  of  the  window.]     A  crow ! 

Marya  Antonovna.     Oh,  Ivan  Aleksondrovich! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  I  couldn't  help  it!  Honestly. 
Please  forgive  me.     I  love  you  so,  I — 

Marya  Antonovna.     What  do  you  take  me  for? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  It  was  out  of  love  for  you, 
truly.  Out  of  love  .  .  .  Marya  Antonovna,  don't  be  angry. 
[Falls  on  his  knees.]     I  ask  you  on  my  knees. 

Anna  Andreevna,  in  a  new  dress,  enters  from  the 
first  room  on  the  left. 

Anna  Andreevna.     Well,  of  all  the  .  .  .   ! 
Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     The  devil! 
Anna  Andreevna.     What  does  this  mean,  young  lady. 
What  kind  of  behavior  is  this  ? 

Marya  Antonovna.     Oh,  mama,  .  .  .  I  .  .  .    ! 


reviz6r.  55 

Anna  Andreevna.  [Pointing  to  the  first  room  on  the 
left.]  Off  to  your  room.  And  don't  you  come  out  again. 
[Marya  Antonovna  goes  to  her  room  in  tears.]  Pardon 
me,  but  I  was  so  surprised  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [Drops  on  his  knees.]  Don't 
you  see,  dear  lady,  that  I'm  in  love?     In  love! 

Anna  Andreevna.  On  your  knees  again!  Get  up! 
I  am  afraid  the  floor  is  awfully  dusty. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  No!  On  my  knees!  By  all 
means,  on  my  knees !  I  want  to  hear  my  sentence.  Is  it 
life,  or  is  it  death? 

Anna  Andreevna.  I  am  afraid  I  don't  quite  understand 
what  you  mean.  Do  I  gather  that  you  are  declaring  your 
love  for  my  daughter? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  No,  I'm  in  love  with  you.  My 
life  hangs  by  a  hair.  If  you  will  not  love  me,  I  am  not 
worthy  to  live. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Sir!  I  am  a  respectable  married 
woman. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     By  Jove!     That's  so! 

Enter  Marya  Antonovna. 

Marya   Antonovna.     Well,   of   all   the  .  .  .    ! 

Anna  Andreevna.     Well,  what  do  you  want? 

Marya  Antonovna.     Really,  mama,  I  don't  know  .  .  . 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Anna  Andreevna,  be  calm, 
perfectly  calm.     Bless  us  ! 

Anna  Andreevna.     So  she's  the  one. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Decide!     Life  or  death  ! 

Anna  Andreevna.  [To  Marya  Antonovna.]  You 
little  idiot!     Our  guest  on  his  knees,  and  then  you  come! 


5  6  REVIZOR. 

You  deserve  not  to  have  my  consent.     You  don't  deserve 
any  such  good  luck. 

Anton  Antonovich  enters  from  the  street 
door,  excitedly. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Your  Excellency,  have  mercy  on 
me.    Do  not  ruin  me ! 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     What's  the  matter  with  you? 

Anton  Antonovich.  The  tradesmen's  petition  ...  I 
assure  you  upon  my  honor,  there  isn't  a  word  of  truth  in 
what  they  say.     They're  all  cheats  themselves. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  I've  got  something  else  to  think 
about  now. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Liars!  Not  even  a  child  would 
believe  them.     Everybody  knows  they're  liars ! 

Anna  Andreevna.  Hush !  Do  you  know  the  honor  that 
Ivan  Aleksondrovich  has  paid  us?  He  has  just  asked 
for  our  daughter's  hand. 

Anton  Antonovich.  What?  You're  crazy!  [Го  Ivan 
Aleksondrovich.]  Please,  your  Excellency,  don't  blame 
her!  She's  a  little  .  .  .  ahem.  [Tapping  his  forehead.] 
It  runs  in  her  family. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  But  it's  true.  I  do  ask  for  your 
daughter's  hand. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Your  Excellency! 

Anna  Andreevna.     Can't  you  believe  what  you're  told  ? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  It's  no  joke  at  all.  I'm  simply 
crazy,  I  love  your  daughter  so. 

Anton  Antonovich.  I  cannot  believe  it !  I  do  not 
deserve  such  an  honor. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  If  you  will  consent  to  let  me 
have  your  daughter's  hand,  I  am  ready  to  do  .  .  .  anything ! 


REVIZOR.  5  7 

Anton  Antonovich.  I  cannot  believe  it.  You're  jok- 
ing, your  Excellency. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Oh,  what  a  ninny  you  are!  How 
often  do  you  have  to  be  told  a  thing? 

Anton  Antonovich.     I  cannot  believe  it. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Give  me  your  daughter. 
G-i-v-e  m-e  y-o-u-r  d-a-u-g-h-t-e-r.  I  am  desperate.  I  am 
likely  to  do  something  rash.  At  any  moment.  If  I  shoot 
myself,  you'll  be  responsible. 

Anton  Antonovich.  All  right !  All  right !  Do  as  you 
like!  She's  mine — I  mean  she's  yours  .  .  .  for  better  or 
for  worse  .  .  .  That  is,  I  don't  know  what  I  mean. 
I  .  .  . 

Anna  Andreevna.     Aren't  you  going  to  bless  them  ? 

Anton  Antonovich.  Why  certainly.  [Anton  Anton- 
ovich joins  their  hands.]     May  God  bless  you,  my  children. 

[Ivan  Aleksondrovich  kisses  Marya  Antonovna. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Hello!  They  are  kissing  each 
other.  Kissing!  Marya  engaged  to  Ivan  Aleksondrovich! 
That's  the  way  to  talk — that's  the  way. 

Enter  Osip. 

Osip.     The  carriage  is  ready,  sir. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     What?    Oh,  very  well. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Why,  are  you  going? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.     Er  .  .  .  yes. 

Anton  Antonovich.  And  when,  that  is  .  .  .  didn't  you 
say  something  about  a  wedding  ? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Yes.  Yes,  of  course.  I'm  only 
going  for  a  day  to  my  rich  old  uncle.  I'll  be  back 
to-morrow. 


58  REVIZOR. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Pleasant  journey  and  safe  return. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  [To  Marya  Antonovna.] 
Good-bye,  my  darling.  Ah,  I  cannot  express  what's  in  my 
heart.    Good-bye,  my  love. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Have  you  everything  you  need 
for  the  journey?    Didn't  you  say  you  were  short  of  money? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Oh,  no!  no,  no!  [On  second 
thought.]     Well,  if  you  can  spare  it. 

Anton  Antonovich.     How  much  do  you  want? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  You  gave  me  two  hundred 
before.  No,  not  two  hundred,  but  four  hundred.  That's 
right,  isn't  it?  Give  me  the  same  now  and  it  will  make 
an  even  eight  hundred. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Very  well.  As  if  on  purpose — 
all  new  bills. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Ah,  first  class.  They  say  new 
bills  bring  new  luck. 

Anton  Antonovich.     That's  true,  too. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich.  Good-bye.  Much  obliged  for 
your  hospitality.  Good-bye,  Anna  Andreevna.  Good-bye, 
my  love. 

[Ivan  Aleksondrovich  goes  out  the  front  door, 
escorted  by  all.  Osip  shoves  himself  out  somehow. 
The  door  remains  wide  open.  The  rest  of  the 
scene  takes  place  back  of  the  stage. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich's  voice.  Good-bye,  my  angel, 
good-bye. 

Anton  Antonovich's  voice.  How's  that?  Going  in  a 
postchaise  ? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich's  voice.     Oh,  yes,  I'm  used  to  it. 

Driver's  voice.     Whoa! 


REVIZOR.  59 

Anton  Antonovich's  voice.  At  least  put  a  blanket  on 
the  seat.     I'll  have  one  brought. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich's  voice.  Oh,  no,  I  couldn't  think 
of  it.     [On  second  thought.]     Still,  it  wouldn't  do  any  harm. 

Anton  Antonovich's  voice.  Hey!  Fetch  the  purple 
blanket  with  the  blue  border. 

Driver's  voice.     Whoa! 

Anton  Antonovich's  voice.  When  may  we  expect  you 
back? 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich's  voice.  Oh,  to-morrow — or  the 
day  after. 

Osip's  voice.  Put  the  blanket  here.  Some  hay  for  my 
seat,  too. 

Driver's  voice.     Whoa! 

Osip's  voice.     Little  more.    There,  that's  right. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich's  voice.     Good-bye,  Antonovich. 

Anton  Antonovich's  voice.  Good-bye,  your  Excel- 
lency. 

Women's  voices.     Good-bye,  Ivan  Aleksondrovich. 

Ivan  Aleksondrovich's  voice.     Good-bye,  darling. 

Driver's  voice.     Giddap,  birdies! 


End  of  Fourth  Act. 


ACT  FIFTH. 

Scene — The  same  as  in  Act  I. 

Time — Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  as  Act  IV. 

Discovered — Anton  Antonovich,  Anna  Andreevna, 
and  Marya  Antonovna  are  in  the  room  as  the  curtain  goes 
up.  Sergeant  Karpovich  enters  soon,  through  the  front 
door. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Well,  Anna  Andreevna?  Ah! 
Our  little  Marya!  Just  think  of  it!  What  a  rich  prize  she 
captured!  Confess  how  you  never  even  dreamt  that  you, 
as  the  wife  of  a  common  or  garden  prefect — that  you'd  be 
related  to  such  a  man  ! 

Anna  Andreevna.  Not  at  all — I  knew  it  right  along. 
It  surprises  you  because  you  have  never  even  seen  people 
in  really  smart  society. 

Anton  Antonovich.  I  guess  I  can  hold  up  my  end  all 
right,  my  dear.  But  things  are  moving  just  a  little,  aren't 
they?  Won't  I  get  square  with  two  or  three  of  my  good 
friends !  Oh,  won't  I !  Where  shall  we  live  now,  here  or 
in  St.  Petersburg? 

Anna  Andreevna.  Oh,  in  St.  Petersburg,  of  course. 
How  could  we  stay  here? 

Anton  Antonovich.  St.  Petersburg  it  is,  then !  I  think 
I'll  give  up  my  prefecture.  What  do  you  think,  Anna 
Andreevna  ? 


reviz6r.  6  i 

Anna  Andreevna.  Why  certainly!  What  good  will  a 
prefecture  do  you  now  ? 

Anton  Antonovich.  No  good  at  all!  Me  a  prefect! 
Me!  Why,  do  you  know  that  this  new  son-in-law  is  friend 
to  all  the  ministers  ?  That  he  visits  the  Czar  ?  Well,  I  think 
I  see  my  son-in-law's  father-in-law  waking  up  some  fine 
morning  in  a  general's  uniform.     Eh? 

Anna  Andreevna.     Of  course  you  will. 

Anton  Antonovich.  A  general !  Why  not  a  knight, 
eh?  Dining  with  the  governor,  while  the  prefect  does 
guard  duty.  {Breaks  into  loud  laughter  with  a  wink  in  his 
left  eye.]     How's  that,  old  lady? 

Anna  Andreevna.  Just  remember  that  your  taste  in 
your  acquaintances  is  so  dreadfully  vulgar !  When  I  think 
of  you  going  about  poisoning  rabbits  with  the  game  warden ! 
When  I  think  of  Zemlyanika !  Horrors !  From  now  on 
your  friends  must  be  people  of  rank,  as  befits  our  position. 
Our  house  in  St.  Petersburg  must  simply  dazzle.  [She 
closer  her  eyes.]     Ah  ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [Entering,  but  still  in  the  doorway.] 
Can  I  believe  the  good  news,  Anton  "Antonovich  ? 

Ammos  Fedrovich  and  Artemi  Filippovich  enter. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Let  me  congratulate  you  on  your 
good  fortune.  I  was  very  glad  to  hear  it.  [Shakes  hands 
with  Anna  Andreevna.]  Hearty  congratulations,  Anna 
Andreevna.  [Shakes  hands  with  Marya  Antonovna.] 
My  best  wishes,  Marya  Antonovna. 

Ivan  Lazarevich.  [Entering,  shakes  hands  with  all  in 
turn.]  Anton  Antonovich,  I  congratulate  you.  A  long  life 
and  a  happy  one ;   the  same  for  the  new  couple ;   may  your 


6  2  REVIZOR. 

posterity  be  numerous, — grandchildren  and  great-grand- 
children. [To  Anna  Andreevna.]  Congratulations,  Anna 
Andreevna.  [To  Marya  Antonovna.]  Hearty  congratu- 
lations, Marya  Antonovna. 

Enter  Luka  Lukich  and  his  wife,  tvho  runs 
in  front  of  him. 

Luka  Lukich's  wife.  I  congratulate  you,  Anna 
Andreevna!  [Kisses  her.]  Oh,  oh,  I  am  so  glad.  So 
glad !  They  told  me :  "Anna  Andreevna  is  marrying  off  her 
daughter — "  "Oh,  goodness  gracious  !"  thought  I,  and  was 
so  glad  that  I  said  to  my  husband :  "Listen,  Luka ;  this  is  a 
great  future  for  Anna  Andreevna.  I  am  so  tickled  that 
I  am  burning  to  congratulate  Anna  Andreevna  in  person. 
Anna  Andreevna  expected  a  particularly  good  match  for 
her  daughter,  and  now  everything  came  out  just  as  she 
wanted."  Honestly,  I  was  so  glad  I  cried  for  joy.  And 
Luka  Lukich  asked:  "What  are  you  sobbing  for,  Nas- 
tenka?" — "Luka  Lukich,"  I  said,  "I  don't  myself  know 
why,  but  the  tears  are  just  rolling  down  in  streams." 

[Someone  is  heard  entering  the  front  hall. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Come  in ! 

Sergeant  Karpovich  enters. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Oh,  it  is  you,  Ivan  Karpovich. 
Call  the  tradesmen !  I'll  show  those  rascals  how  to  complain 
against  me !  I  have  been  lenient  with  them  as  compared  to 
what  I  am  going  to  be.  Note  everyone  who  came  to  com- 
plain against  me,  and  do  not  forget  the  scribblers  who  wrote 


REVIZOR.  63 

the  complaints  for  them.  And  make  it  known  to  them, 
that,  in  spite  of  their  complaints  against  me,  the  inspector 
will  honor  the  prefect  by  marrying  his  daughter.  Make  it 
known  everywhere,  to  everybody.  Let  the  bells  ring  and 
announce  the  prefect's  triumph ! 

[The  sergeant  goes  out  through  the  front  door. 

[Stepan   Ilich   and   the  sergeants  enter  from   the 
right. 

Stepan  Ilich.  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  Your 
Honor,  and  to  wish  you  a  long  life  and  prosperity ! 

[Mishka  brings  in  more  chairs. 

Anton  Antonovich.  Thank  you,  thank  you!  Ladies 
and  gentlemen,  please  sit  down. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  But  tell  me,  please,  Anton  Antono- 
vich, how  did  it  all  come  about — I  mean  the  engagement  ? 

Anton  Antonovich.  Oh,  in  the  most  unusual  manner ; 
it  pleased  him  to  propose  to  her. 

Anna  Andreevna.  [Interrupting.]  In  the  most  elegant 
way  imaginable !  He  spoke  so  unusually  nicely.  He  is  such 
a  grand,  educated  man — such  an  honorable  man.  He  said : 
"Believe  me,  Anna  Andreevna,  my  life  is  not  worth 
anything;  I  do  this  out  of  respect  to  your  own  rare 
qualities!" 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Well,  if  you  don't  like  that  one,  I 
may  sell  you  another. 

[Enter  Stepan  Ivanovich  and  his  wife,  Petr  Ivanovich 
Bobchinski,  Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski  and  several 
guests. 


64  REVIZOR. 

Stepan  Ivanovich's  wife.  Oh,  you  cannot  imagine, 
Anna  Andreevna,  how  glad  I  am  that  it  so  happened. 

Stepan  Ivanovich.  Where  is  the  eminent  guest  now? 
I  heard  he  left  to  attend  to  some  of  his  important  business. 

Anton  Antonovich.  I  believe  you,  my  boy!  Import- 
ant ?    Well,  rather ! 

Anna  Andreevna.     He  went  to  get  his  uncle's  blessing. 

Anton  Antonovich.  To  obtain  his  uncle's  consent;  but 
to-morrow  .  .  .  [He  sneezes.  The  congratulations — "God 
bless  you" — pour  out  in  a  chorus.]  Many  thanks — he  will 
surely  be  back  to-morrow. 

[He  sneezes  again;    a  volley  of  greetings  drowns 
all  other  talk. 

Stepan  Ilich.     Our  best  wishes,  Your  Honor ! 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  I  wish  you  a  long  life 
and  loads  of  gold. 

Petr  Ivanovich  Dobchinski.     May  you  live  forever ! 

Anna  Andreevna.  We  intend  to  live  in  St.  Petersburg, 
of  course.  Here,  I  must  confess,  the  atmosphere  is  too 
bourgeois!  Oh,  very  unpleasant! — My  husband  will  be 
promoted  to  the  rank  of  general. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Well,  I  wouldn't  object  seriously. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  [To  Anton  Antonovich.] 
Don't  forget  us,  when  you  get  to  be  a  general. 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Don't  forget  me  when  you  shake 
the  plums  from  the  plum  tree. 

Stepan  Ivanovich.  I'm  going  to  take  my  boy  to 
the  capital,  next  year,  and  have  him  enlist  in  the  service 
of  the  state.    If  only  you  would  be  a  father  to  him ! 

Anton  Antonovich.     I'll  do  my  level  best. 


reviz6r.  65 

Anna  Andreevna.  Oh,  you  are  always  ready  to  prom- 
ise, Anton.  You  won't  have  time  to  think  about  such  things. 
How  can  you  tie  your  hands  with  such  promises  ? 

Anton  Antonovich.  Why  not,  my  dear?  Sometimes 
it  is  possible. 

Anna  Andreevna.  Of  course,  but  you  can't  be  good 
to  a  lot  of  nobodies ! 

Stepan  Ivanovich's  wife.  Did  you  hear  what  she 
called  us? 

A  Guest.  She  was  always  like  that.  Give  her  a  chance 
and  she'll  .  .  . 

The  tradesmen  enter  from  the  door  on  the  right. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Hello,  you  vultures !    You  .  .  . 

The  Tradesmen.  [Bowing  low.]  The  Lord  bless  you, 
sir! 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Banteringly  at  first.]  Well,  how 
goes  it?  Are  the  people  as  easy  a  mark  as  ever?  [Satiri- 
cally.] I  suppose  you  thought  I  was  in  jail  by  this  time. 
[Venomously.]  Now  you  rascals,  deceivers,  arch-cheats, 
now  I'll  show  you  how  to  complain  against  me.  Now  I'll 
set  seven  devils  and  a  witch  against  you,  d . 

Anna  Andreevna.     [Interrupting.]    Oh,  what  language. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Angrily,  to  his  wife.]  My  lan- 
guage is  all  right.  [To  the  tradesmen.]  Do  you  know  that 
that  same  officer  to  whom  you  have  complained  is  going  to 
marry  my  daughter?  Now  I'll  go  for  you,  you  impostors! 
You  think  because  you  can  sell  sixteen  samovars  a  day,  you 
are  somebody.  I'll  prove  to  you  that  your  airs  don't  amount 
to  a  hill  of  beans ! 

The  Second  Tradesman.  [Bowing  loiv.]  We  are 
guilty,    Anton    Antonovich ;    the   devil   tempted   us.     We 


66  REVIZOR. 

will  never  do  it  again.  Ask  for  any  reparation,  only  do  not 
get  angry. 

Anton  Antonovich.  "Do  not  get  angry."  Now  you 
are  at  my  feet,  why?  Because  I  won  out;  but  if  I  hadn't 
won,  you  would  have  downed  me. 

The  Tradesmen.  [Bowing  low,  together.]  We  beseech 
you,  Anton  Antonovich,  do  not  ruin  us ! 

Anton  Antonovich.  "Do  not  ruin  us."  "Do  not  ruin 
us."  But  what  did  you  say  to  the  inspector?  Oh,  I  would 
just  like  .  .  .  [He  waves  his  hand.]  Well,  may  God  for- 
give you  !  I  am  not  rancorous ;  but  take  care !  I  am  going 
to  marry  off  my  daughter,  and  not  to  a  poor  nobleman, 
either.  Remember  the  occasion,  do  you  understand?  You 
must  do  a  little  more  than  bring  a  sturgeon  or  a  cone  of 
sugar. 

[Ivan  Kuzmich  runs  in  through  the  front  door,  all  out 
of  breath,  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  Ladies !  Gentlemen !  A  most  surpris- 
ing piece  of  news!  The  functionary,  whom  we  have  all 
taken  for  the  Czar's  inspector,  was  not  an  inspector  at  all. 

Everybody  on  the  stage.  How  is  that?  How  do  you 
know? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  He  was  no  inspector;  I  know  it  from 
this  letter.  [He  shows  the  letter. 

Anton  Antonovich.  What  are  you  talking  about? 
From  what  letter? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  From  his  own  letter.  The  letter  was 
brought  to  me  in  the  post  office.  I  looked  at  the  address 
and   I   saw :    "Pockramskaya."*     I   nearly   dropped   dead. 

*  "Pockramskaya"  means  "Post  Office  Street,"  and  as  a  rule, 
officials  of  the  department  live  there. 


REVIZOR.  67 

"Well,"  thought  I,  "surely  he  has  found  irregularities  in 
the  post  office  and  is  informing  the  authorities."  I  opened  it 
immediately. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Why  did  you  do  that? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  I  do  not  know :  a  supernatural  power 
possessed  me.  I  had  already  summoned  a  special  messenger 
to  send  the  letter  away,  but  my  curiosity  got  the  better  of 
me  as  never  before.  I  could  not  stop  it;  I  simply  could 
not.  I  was  hypnotized !  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  heard  with 
one  ear  a  supernatural  command :  "Open  it !  You  are  lost 
anyway" ;  and  in  the  other,  the  devil  whispered :  "Open 
it !  Open  it !"  and  as  I  touched  the  sealing  wax  my  blood 
got  on  fire ;  but  when  I  opened  it,  it  froze  stiff — upon  my 
word,  it  froze  stiff.  And  my  hands  began  to  shake,  and 
I  became  confused. 

Anton  Antonovich.  But  how  did  you  dare  to  open  the 
letter  of  such  an  official? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  That's  just  the  point,  he  is  not  an 
official. 

Anton  Antonovich.     Then  what  is  he? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     A  nothing. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Vehemently.]  What  do  you 
mean  by  "a  nothing?"  How  dare  you  call  him  "a  nothing?" 
I  put  you  under  arrest  .  .  . 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     Who?    You? 

Anton  Antonovich.     Yes,  I! 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     You  are  not  big  enough! 

Anton  Antonovich.  Are  you  aware  of  the  fact  that 
he  is  going  to  marry  my  daughter,  that  I  myself  am  going 
to  be  a  grandee,  that  I  could  nail  you  up  in  Siberia? 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  Oh,  Anton  Antonovich,  what  are  you 
talking  about  Siberia?     Siberia  is  far  off.     I'd  better  read 


68  REVIZOR. 

the  letter  for  you.    Ladies  and  gentlemen,  will  you  permit 
me  to  read  the  letter  ? 

Everybody  on  the  stage.     Read  it,  read  it. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  [Reads.]  "I  hasten  to  inform  you,  my 
dear  Tryapichkin,  about  the  wonderful  things  that  have 
happened  to  me  since  I  left  you.  On  the  road,  an  infantry 
captain  cheated  me  out  of  the  last  kopek  I  had,  so  that 
the  innkeeper  was  ready  to  put  me  in  jail ;  but  unexpectedly, 
probably  on  account  of  my  St.  Petersburg  physiognomy  and 
clothes,  the  whole  town  mistook  me  for  the  Czar's  right  hand 
man.  I  now  live  in  the  police  prefect's  house,  enjoying  life, 
shouting  love  like  a  madman  to  his  wife  and  daughter;  I 
have  not  quite  decided  with  which  to  begin.  Everybody 
lends  me  money  to  any  amount.  They  are  characters ;  you 
would  die  laughing.  I  know  you  write  for  the  press  ;  make 
up  a  story  of  this  and  put  it  in  some  paper.  First ;  the  police 
prefect  is  as  stupid  as  a  gray  donkey." 

Anton  Antonovich.     [Provoked.]     I  do  not  believe  it. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  [Shozving  the  letter.]  Read  it  your- 
self! 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Reading.]  "As  a  gray  donkey" 
— It  is  impossible ;   you  wrote  this  yourself. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     How  could  I  write  it? 

Artemi  Filippovich.     Read  on! 

Luka  Lukich.     Read  on! 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  [Continuing  to  read.]  "The  police 
prefect  is  as  stupid  as  a  gray  donkey." 

Anton  Antonovich.     That'll  do.    That  will  do!! 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     [Continuing.]      Hm-hm-hm — "a  gray 
donkey.    The  prefect  is  also  a  good-natured  man"  .  .  . 
[He   stops   reading.]      Here    he    expressed    himself    very 
impolitely  about  me. 


reviz6r.  69 

Anton  Antonovich.     Read  on.    Don't  stop! 

Ivan  Kuzmich.    What  for? 

Artemi  Filippovich.  Permit  me!  [He  puts  on  his 
glasses  and  reads:]  "The  postmaster  is  the  very  incarnation 
of  the  janitor  Mikheev  at  the  Chancery,  and  the  rascal  must 
be  drinking  just  as  heavily." 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  [A  bit  aside.]  The  rascal!  He  ought 
to  get  a  good  licking,  that's  all. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  [Continuing  to  read.]  "The 
overseer  of  the  charitable  institutions"  .  .  .  and  .  .  .  and 
.  .  .  and  .  .  .  and  .  .  . 

[He  begins  to  stammer  a  bit,  then  stops. 

Stepan  Ivanovich.     Why  did  you  stop? 

Artemi  Filippovich.  The  writing  is  illegible — anyway, 
it  is  very  apparent  that  he  is  a  scamp ! 

Stepan  Ivanovich.  Give  it  to  me!  I  think  my  eyes 
are  better.  [He  takes  the  letter. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  [Not  giving  the  letter.]  Well, 
this  place  can  be  left  out.    Read  further  on. 

Stepan  Ivanovich.     Give  it  to  me.    I'll  read  it. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  I  can  read  it  myself ;  further  on 
the  writing  is  very  clear. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  No,  you  must  read  the  whole  of  it. 
Everything  was  read  before. 

Everybody  on  the  stage.  Give  it  up,  Artemi  Filippo- 
vich; give  up  the  letter.  [To  Stepan  Ivanovich.]  You 
read  it. 

Artemi  Filippovich.  All  right.  [He  gives  up  the 
letter.]     Begin  here. 

[He  covers  up  the  spot  with  his  fingers.    Everybody 
on  the  stage  goes  for  him. 


7°  REVIZOR. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  Read  it.  Read  it!  Nonsense,  read  it 
all! 

Stepan  Ivanovich.  [Reading.]  "The  overseer  of  the 
charitable  institutions,  Zemlyanika,  is  a  pig." 

Artemi  Filippovich.  [Half  aside;  displeased.]  That's 
not  funny,  one  bit! 

Stepan  Ivanovich.  [Continuing.]  The  supervisor  of 
the  schools  eats  garlic  .  .  . 

Luka  Lukich.     I  never  touch  it ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [Half  aside.]  Thank  the  Lord, 
there  is  nothing  about  me. 

Stepan  Ivanovich.     [Reading.]     "The  judge"  .  .  . 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  think  the 
letter  is  altogether  too  long;  what  the  devil  is  the  use 
of  reading  trash  like  that ! 

Luka  Lukich.     Oh,  no ! 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     No,  no,  read  on! 

Artemi  Filippovich.     You  had  better  continue! 

Stepan  Ivanovich.  [Continuing.]  "The  Judge  Lyap- 
kin-Tyapkin  is  a  monotone  of  the  most  unvaried,  tiresome 
kind."     [He  stops.]     This  must  be  French! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  The  devil  knows  what  it  means. 
Do  you  suppose  it  means  anything  ?    Worse  than  a  rascal. 

Stepan  Ivanovich.  [Continuing.]  "However,  they  are 
all  good-hearted  and  hospitable  people.  Good-bye,  my  dear 
Tryapichkin.  Like  you,  I  want  to  devote  myself  to  litera- 
ture. Life  without  an  occupation  of  this  sort  is  tedious ;  but 
if  one  writes,  he  can  always  pour  out  his  soul  on  paper, 
and  feel  the  better  afterwards.  I  see  plainly  enough  that  I 
must  pursue  some  high  ideal.  Write  to  me.  [He  turns  the 
letter   and   reads    the   address.]      "His    Honor,    Sir    Ivan 


reviz6r.  7 1 

*Vasillovich  Tryapichkin,  97  Pachtomskaya  St.,  St.  Peters- 
burg." 

One  of  the  Ladies.     What  an  unexpected  reprimand. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Nervously  excited.]  He  cer- 
tainly cut  us  to  the  quick!  This  is  too  much,  altogether. 
He  has  done  us !    He  must  be  caught !        [Waves  his  hands. 

Ivan  Kuzmich.  He  cannot  be  caught.  I  gave  him  the 
best  troika,f  as  bad  luck  would  have  it;  the  devil  himself 
induced  me  to  give  it  to  him,  even  before  he  pronounced 
the  order. 

Stepan  Ivanovich's  wife.  This  is  the  greatest  mixup 
that  ever  happened ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  Mixup!  He  borrowed  three  hun- 
dred rubles  of  me. 

Artemi  Filippovich.     He  took  three  hundred  of  me ! 

Ivan  Kuzmich.     [Sighing.]     Same  here! 

Petr  Ivanovich  Bobchinski.  And  sixty-five  of  me  and 
Petr  Ivanovich ! 

Ammos  Fedrovich.  [Stretching  his  hands  perplexedly.] 
How  is  it  that  we  have  been  taken  in  so  badly  ? 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Striking  himself  on  the  fore- 
head.] What  a  .  .  .  what  an  old  fool!  I  have  lost  my 
senses.  Thirty  years  in  the  service,  and  not  one  merchant, 
not  one  contractor  could  deceive  me ;  the  swindlers  of  swin- 
dlers I  have  beaten  in  their  own  game.  I  have  gotten 
the  best  of  such  sharks  and  cheats  as  the  world  had  not  seen 
their  like;  I  have  fooled  three  generals  .  .  .  [He  waves 
his  hands  in  disapprovement.]  What's  the  use  of  mention- 
ing generals.     They  are  easy  .  .  . 

*  This  high-sounding  title  in  general  use  amounts  to  no  more 
than  Mr.  and  Esq. 

f  Three  horses  abreast. 


7  2  REVIZOR. 

Anna  Andreevna.  But  it  is  impossible,  Anton;  he  is 
engaged  to  Mary  a. 

Anton  Antonovich.  [Bitterly.]  Engaged?  It  is  an 
insult,  not  an  engagement!  Don't  talk  to  me  about  the 
engagement.  [Delirious.]  See,  see,  let  the  whole  world 
see,  let  all  Christians  see,  what  a  fool  the  prefect  has  been 
made  of !  Look  at  the  fool,  the  old  fool  and  knave !  [He 
strikes  his  own  head  zvith  his  fist.]  Blockhead  that  I  am. 
And  I  took  him  for  a  great  person.  Now  he  is  riding  at 
full  speed  and  filling  the  air  with  the  sound  of  bells.  He 
will  spread  the  story  all  over  the  world.  That  will  hardly 
be  the  end  of  it ;  it  would  not  stop  with  ridicule — some  hack- 
writer, some  penny-a-liner  will  put  me  into  a  play.  Those 
literary  hacks  respect  no  rank  or  calling.  And  they  will  all 
jeer  and  laugh  at  me  and  tear  me  to  pieces. 

[People  on  the  stage  laugh  half  aloud. 

A  gendarme  enters  through  the  front  door. 

The  Gendarme.  The  functionary  who  came  here  from 
St.  Petersburg  by  order  of  the  Czar  commands  you  to 
appear  before  him.     He  stopped  at  the  hotel. 

[The  announcement  strikes  them  all  like  a  thunder- 
bolt. A  sound  of  astonishment  unanimously  issues 
from  the  ladies'  lips;  the  whole  assembly,  on 
account  of  the  suddenly  changed  circumstances, 
remains  standing  as  though  petrified. 


The  End. 


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CLUB    SODA  VICHY 

SARSAPARILLA  CARBONIC 

TEI 22S  BRYANT 


Hotel     Belmont 

NEW     YORK 

Barber    Shop 

JOHN     WERSHING,     Proprietor 


HEALTH    IN    THE    HILL     TOPS 

OF 

Orange,  Sullivan,  Ulster  and  Delaware  Counties,  New  York 

ON   THE 

NEW  YORK,  ONTARIO  &  WESTERN  RY. 

A   SUMMER   HOME   for  your  family  in  a  region  of 
absolute   HEALTH  AT   MODERATE  COST 

PURE  AIR,  PURE  WATER,  PURE  MILK,  NO  MALARIA,  NO  MOSQUITOES 


Ф 


SUPERBLY   ILLUSTRATED   BOOK 

"  s TJMMEm    homes  " 

giving  list  of  hotels,  farm  and  boarding  houses,  location,  etc.,  can  be 
procured  free  at  any  of  our  ticket  offices  in  New  York  City  or  Brooklyn 
after  May  ist,  or  will  be  mailed  on  receipt  of  8  cents  postage. 


J.  C.  ANDERSON.  Traffic  Manager  F.  W.  SMITH,  Asst.  Gen'l  Pass.  Agt. 

56     Beaver    Street,     New    York 
NEW    YORK    CITY 


The  Hermitage 

A  CLUB  HOTEL  FOR  MEN 

The  name  tells  the  story 

Seventh  Ave.  and  Forty-Second  St. 

JUNCTION  OF   BROADWAY 

Restaurant  on  the  street  floor,  a  restaurant  where 
ladies  are  welcome. 

Every  other  part  of  the  house  exclusively  for  men. 

Telephones  in  every  room. 

Respectful,  quiet,  obedient  and  alert  Japanese  ser- 
vants. 

Bedroom  and  bath,  $2.00  a  day  upward. 
Send  for  Booklet 

T.    F.    PADDELL,   Proprietor 


A  Spring  Trip 


TO  OLD  POINT  COMFORT,  NORFOLK, 
RICHMOND,  AND  WASHINGTON,  D.  С 

Via  OLD  DOMINION  LINE 


A  Short  Vacation  without  an  equal 

Round  Trip  Tickets,  including  Meals  and  Stateroom  berth  on  Old 
Dominion  steamer,  $14.00  and  upwards,  returning  all  water  or  via  rail 
if  desired. 

Steamers  leave  New  York  every  week  day  at  3  P.  M. 

Tickets  and  stateroom  reservations,  Pier  26,  North  River,  Beach 
Street,  New  York. 


W.  L.  WOODROW, 

Traffic  Manager 


J.  J.  BROWN, 

Gen  7  Pass.  Agt. 


EUROPEAN 


GARAGE  X4^/®i@\5gxfiRCHESTRA 
ON  THE   BOARD  WALK 


Mallory  Steamship  Company 


IDEAL  OCEAN  ROUTE 


BETWEEN 


New  York 


AND 

THE 

PORTS 

OF 


GALVESTON,  TEXAS 
MOBILE,  ALABAMA 
KEY  WEST.  FLORIDA 
BRUNSWICK,  GEORGIA 

Direct  connections  and  Through  Service  to  and  from  All  Points  in 

Texu,  Arizona,  Alabama,  Mississippi,  Louisiana,  Oklahoma,  Colorado,  New  and 

Old  Mexico,  Utah,  California 


THROUGH  TICKETS 
LOWEST  RATES 


MODERN   STEAMSHIPS 
EXCELLENT  SERVICE 


CLYDE    STEAMSHIP    COMPANY 


DIRECT  ALL  WATER  ROUTE 

BETWEEN 


New  York 


(  CHARLESTON,  S.  С 
л  and 

I  JACKSONVILLE,  FLA. 

Connections  and  Through  Service  to  and  from  all  Points  in 
North  and  South  Carolina,  Tennessee,   Missouri,  Georgia,  Florida,  Alabama 


AND 

THE 

PORTS 

OF 


A.  W.  PYE  A,  C.  HAGERTY 

Genera/  Passenger  Agent  General  Passenger  Agent 

Mallory  Steamship  Company  Clyde  Steamship  Company 

H.  H.  RAYMOND,  Vice-President  and  General  Manager 


GENERAL 
OFFICES 


Hallory  Steamship  Company,  80  South  Street,  New  York 
Clyde  Steamship  Company,  Pier  36  North  River,  New  York 


1014  CmapclStT- 

New  Haven.  Conn. 

Smart  College  Clothes 


^ 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 

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®$ 

ШЯШШШШЯШШШЯШШШ                                                                                      Berkeley 

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